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PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


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Purchased    by  the 
Mrs.   Robert   Lenox    Kennedy   Church   History   Fund. 

BX  9081  .S651l903 
Smellie,  Alexander,  1857- 

1923. 
Men  of  the  Covenant 


.IiillN    .MAITLAXD,    DUKK   OF   LAUDEIlDALE. 
After  a  Diatring  in  the  British  ihiseum,  hy  Sir  Peter  Lei;/. 
TItrnuijh  the  co)trlesy  nf  Sir  Edward  M<iii>:d<:  Tlwmiifon  and  Dr.  Osiimnd  Airy. 
Fro)itt.ipiece. 


(iA4en  of  the  Covenant 

The  Story  of  the  Scottish  Church 
in  the  Years  of  the  Persecution 


Alexander    Smelhe,    M.A, 


Author  of  ^^In  the  Hour  of  Silence'''' 


WITH    THIRTY-SEVEN    ILLUSTRATIONS 


SECOND   EDITION 


NEW  YORK  CHICAGO  TORONTO 

Fleming   H.    Revell   Company 


LONDON   AND  EDINBURGH 


/9O3 


The   Illustrations  are,   ivith  the  exception  of  the   Frontispiece, 
from  Draivings  done  by 

Thomas  Smellie,   F. S.A.Scot. 


IN   DEAR   MEMORY  OF 

F.    E.    S. 

A   CHILD   WHOM   GOD   LEADS 

IN  GREEN   PASTURES 

AND  BESIDE  THE  STILL  WATERS 


PREFATORY    NOTE 


TN  the  march  of  years,  the  heroisms  of  the  past,  its  agonies 
and  triumphs,  fade  very  quickly  into  a  mist  of  indistin/it- 
ness.  New  events,  new  debates,  and  new  achievements  come  crowd- 
ing in  ;  until  their  predecessors  are  well-nigh  forgotten.  That  is 
why  this  hook  has  been  written.  It  seeks  to  recall  a  notable 
period,  and  to  summon  from  the  shadoias  which  begin  to  gather 
about  them  some  stalwart  and  noble  figures  in  whose  fellowship 
it  is  good  to  linger.  I  have  addressed  myself  to  ordiitiary 
readers,  who  have  not  the  opportiinity  or  the  leisure  to  consult 
for  themselves  the  pages  of  James  Kirkton  and  Robert  Wodrow, 
of  Patrick  Walker  and  Alexander  Shields,  of  Dr.  Osmund  Airy 
and  Dr.  Hay  Fleming.  Where  the  portrait  at  full  length  is 
unattainaUe,  the  miniature  or  the  pencilled  sketch  may  have  its 
place  and  use.  Surely  we,  in  our  time,  ought  to  know,  and, 
knowing,  to  praise  famous  men,  and  women  not  a  whit  less 
famous — those  men  and  luomen  who,  in  Mr.  Kipling's  phrase, 

put  aside  To-day 
All  the  joys  of  their  To-day, 
And  ivith  toil  of  their  To-day 
BovAjht  for  Ks  To-morrow. 

The  twenty-eight  years  of  the  Persecution,  whilst  they  have 
an  absorbing  and  manifold  interest,  are  set  with  snares  and. 
pitfalls ;  and  the  pilgrim  through  them,  when  he  seeks  to  sliun 


viii  PREFATORY  NOTE 

the  ditch  on  the  one  hand,  is  ready  to  tip  over  into  the  mire  on 
the  other.  I  do  not  douht  that  errors  have  crept  into  my  recital ; 
and,  indeed,  I  make  no  shadow  of  claim  to  the  fulness  and, 
certitude  of  the  expert.  But  I  think  I  can  say  that  I  have 
done  what  I  could  to  acquaint  myself  with  the  theme  which  I 
have  striven  to  expound. 

Some  may  complain  that  the  atmosphere  of  these  chapters  is 
too  Whirjgish,  and  that  they  scarcely  so  mtich  as  try  to  under- 
stand and  appreciate  the  Cavalier.  I  can  hut  plead  that  to  me 
it  seems  evident  that  the  Covenanter,  in  the  main,  ivas  incontcst- 
dbly  right ;  although  I  hope  that  I  have  never  been  conspicuo2isly 
unfair  to  his  opponent.  And,  when  Mr.  Lang  and  Mr.  William 
Law  Mathieson — in  whose  footstejps  Mr.  J.  H.  Millar  has  but 
yesterday  been  follovjing — have  recently  done  so  much  to  glorify 
those  who  upheld  the  Royal  prerogative  and  the  Episcopal  rule, 
perhaps  one,  who  only  wishes  that  he  knew  how  to  speak  their 
great  language,  and  who  holds  them  in  admiration  for  their  shin- 
ing gifts,  may  present  his  humbler  brief  on  behalf  of  the  dogged 
fighters  for  freedom  in  Church  and  State.  This  was  done  for 
a  former  generation  by  vjriters  like  James  Dodds  and  George 
Gilfillan.  But  their  books  arc  not  easily  to  be  procured  to-day ; 
and,  since  they  were  2>^nned,  facts  have  been  brought  to  light 
which  help  in  the  elucidation  of  the  drama. 

I  am  indebted,  to  a  multitude  of  benefactors;  but,  pre- 
eminently, to  the  artist  who  has  illuminated  the  story  with  a 
whole  gallery  of  admirable  pictures.  He  bears  my  own  prosaic 
Lowland  stirname ;  but,  except  through  the  medium  of  his 
pleasant  and  kindly  letters,  I  have  not  spoken  with  him  at  all. 
Having  seen  some  announcement  of  this  book,  he  wrote  to  me, 
offering  to  ilhistrate  its  pages  as  a  labour  of  love.  Everyone 
who  looks  at  them  will,  I  am  certain,  share  my  ov:n  heartfelt 
gratitude  to  a  colleague  so  generous  and  so  skilful. 

A.  S 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

Prologue  : — The  Chuiichyakd  of  the  Gkeyfriaes — In  Glasgow 
Cathedral — St.  Margaret's  at  Westminster— The  Finest 
Gallant  in  the  Realm — Faith  Unfaithful — Resolutioner 
AND  Remonstrant — The  Late  Usurper 
I.  How  the  King  came  Home  . 
II.  The  Drunken  Parliament  . 

III.  A  Deathbed  in  St.  Andrews 

IV.  Marquis  and  Martyr 
V.  The  Short  Man  who  could  not  Bow 

VI.  Sharp  of  that  Ilk    .... 
VII.  Their  Graces  Enter  and  His  Grace  Departs 
VIII.  John  Livingston  Tells  his  own  Story     . 
IX.  A  Nonsuch  for  a  Clerk 
X.  Sabbath  MoPvNing  in  Fenwick 
XL  How  Colonel  Wallace  fought  at  Pentland 
XII.  Ephraim  Macbriar  or  Sir  Galahad  ? 

XIII.  Blot  out  his  Name  then 

XIV.  The  Blink      ..... 
XV.  A  Field  Preacher     .... 

XVI.  He  Seemed  in  a  Perpetual  Meditation  . 
XVII.  Spokesmen  of  Christ 

XVIII.  Are  Windle-Straws  Better  than  Men  ?  . 
XIX.  A  JIay  Day  on  Magus  Moor 
XX.  Clavers  in  a'  his  Pride 

XXI.  Those  that  were  Stout  of  Heart  are  Spoiled 
XXII.  Gloom  after  Gleam  .... 

XXIII.  A  Temporary.  .... 

XXIV.  The  Lion  of  the  Covenant 


1 

31 

40 

49 

59 

70 

81 

91 

97 

107 

118 

128 

140 

151 

160 

170 

183 

192 

209 

219 

229 

238 

244 

253 

263 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

XXV.  Breaker  and  Builder  of  the  Eternal  Law 
XXVI.  Two  Octobers  .... 

XXVII.  For  a  Gentleman  there  ls  Mr.  Baillie 
XXVIII.  Le  Roi  est  Mort       .... 
XXIX.  The  Killing  Time     .... 
XXX.  How  John  Brown  Won  his  Diadem 
XXXI.  At  the  Water  of  Bladnoch 
XXXII.  The  Adventures  of  George  Brysson,  Merchant 

XXXIII.  Those  Women  which  Laboured  in  the  Gospel 

XXXIV.  PuiR  AuLD  Sandy      . 

XXXV.    DUNNOTTAR   AND   THE    BaSS      . 

XXXVI.  He  was  of  Old  Knox's  Principles 
XXXVII.  Lo,  the  Winter  is  Past  !    . 
Epilogue  :  The  General  Assembly  Meets  Again 


PAOS 

277 
286 
292 
306 
314 
328 
336 
349 
359 
374 
387 
395 
407 
419 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


John  Maitland,  Duke  of  Lauderdale    . 

(After  a  Draifing  in  the  British  Museinn,  by  Sir  Peter  Lei,'/- 
Through  the  courtesy  of  Sir  Edward  Maimde  Thmnpson 
and  Dr.  Osmund  Airy) 


Frontispiece 


1.  Alexander  Henderson       .... 

{From,  the  Portrait  belonging  to  the  Hendersons  of  Fardel) 

2.  James  Graham,  Marquis  of  Montrose    . 

{From  the  Portrait  by  Uonthorst,  1649) 

3.  Oliver  Cromwell     ...... 

{From  the  Painting  by  Samuel  Cooper,  in  Sidney  Sussex  College, 
Cambridge) 

4.  Charles  II.    . 

{After  the  Portrait  by  Sir  Peter  Lely) 

5.  Samuel  Rutherfurd  ..... 

{From,  a  Photograph  which  reproduces  a  Painting  now  in  New 
York.  Through  the  kindness  of  the  Rev.  John  Sturrock 
of  Edinburgh) 

6.  Archibald  Campbell,  First  Marquis  of  Argyll 

7.  James  Guthrie's  Chair       ..... 

8.  James  Guthrie,  Minister  of  Stirling    . 

9.  James  Sharp,  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews 

{After  a  Painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely) 

10.  John  Livingston  of  Ancrum         .... 

{From  the  Portrait  in  Gosford  House,  the  property  of  the  Earl 
of  Wemyss) 

11.  Mrs.  John  Livingston  of  Ancrum 

{From  the  Portrait  in  Gosford  House) 

12.  Sir  Archibald  Johnston,  Lord  "VVariston 

{After  a  Portrait  by  George  Jamesone,  in  the  possession  of  Sir 
James  Gibson  Craig,  Bart.) 

13.  Fenwick  Church,  where  "William  Guthrie  Preached 


To  face  page  8 
16 
32 

40 
56 

64 
72 

80 
88 

96 

104 
112 

120 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


no. 
14. 


William  Guthrie  of  Fenwick 


To  face  page  128 


15. 

16. 

17. 

18. 

19. 

20. 
21. 
22. 

23. 

24. 

25. 
26. 

27. 

28. 

29. 
30. 
31. 

32. 
33. 

34. 

35. 

36. 


{A  Portrait  prefixed  to  soine  editions  of  "The  Christian's  Great 
Interest ") 

Sir  James  Turner   ..... 

(From  the  Engraving  by  Robert  White.    Through  the  kindness 
of  Messrs.  T.  C.  and  E.  C.  Jack  of  Edinburgh) 

The  Crown  of  St.  Giles    .... 

Charles  I.     ...... 

(From  the  Painting  by  Van  Dyck) 

John  Maitland,  Earl  of  Lauderdale    . 
(After  a  Painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely) 

Robert  Leighton     ..... 

(The  traditional  likeness,  the  accuracy  of  which  is  not  indisputable) 

Alexander  Henderson's  Church  at  Leuchars 

The  Old  Manse  at  Stirling — James  Guthrie's  House 

John  Graham  of  Claverhouse,  in  his  Youth   . 

(From  the  Leven  Portrait) 

The  Tolbooth  of  Glasgow 

The  Duke  of  York  .... 

(After  a  Portrait  by  Sir  Godfrey  Knellcr) 

Richard  Cameron's  Monument  at  Ayrsmoss 
The  Netherbow  Port         .... 

(From  the  east,  as  it  appeared  in  the  seventeenth  century) 

Robert  Baillie  of  Jera^iswood 

(In  his  youth.    After  a  Miniature  of  1660) 

General  Thomas  Dalzell  .... 

(After  a  Contemporary  Print.     Through  the  kindness  of  Messrs. 
T.  C.  and  E.  C.  Jack  of  Edinburgh) 

Captain  Paton's  Sword,  and  John  Brown's 

Sir  Robert  Grierson's  Coat  of  Arms  and  Autograph 

Lady  Balcarres       ...... 

(Prom  the  Portrait  in  Brahan  Castle,  reproduced  in  the  Earl 
of  Crawford's  "Memoirs"  of  Lady  Anna  Mackenzie) 

The  Bass  Rock  as  it  was  in  its  Fortified  State,  1690 

Ax  Execution  in  the  Grassmarket 
(From  an  Old  Print) 

The  Lord  Advocate  Mackenzie    .  .  .  . 

(After  the  Portrait  by  Kneller) 

The  Cross  of  Edinburgh  ..... 
William  Carmtares  ...... 


136 

144 
152 

168 

184 

200 
208 
232 

248 
264 

272 
288 

304 

320 

328 
344 
368 

392 
400 

408 

416 
424 


MEN    OF    THE    COVENANT 


PROLOGUE. 

THE  Covenanters  were  the  men  and  women  who  uttered 
the  strongest  convictions  of  their  souls  in  two  great 
documents  of  the  seventeenth  century,  a  heroic  period  in  the 
history  of  Britain.  One  of  these  documents  is  the  National 
Covenant  of  Scotland,  as  it  was  recast  and  sworn  in  1638. 
The  other  is  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  similar  in 
aspiration,  but  wider  in  geographical  scope,  being  designed  to 
embrace  England  and  Ireland  as  well  as  the  smaller  country 
north  of  the  Cheviots  and  the  Solway.  In  this  book  there  is 
no  intention  of  depicting  the  events  and  persons  of  the  genera- 
tion in  which  these  famous  confessions  sprang  into  existence. 
It  begins  with  the  Annus  Mirabilis  of  the  Kestoration,  when 
the  National  Covenant  was  two-and-twenty  springtimes  old, 
and  when  some  who  were  prominent  in  commending  it  to  their 
fellows  had  passed  from  the  scene  of  their  earthly  battle.  Its 
concern  is  with  the  characters  and  the  doings  and  the  sorrows 
of  their  immediate  successors,  who  coincided  with  them  in 
intellectual  belief  and  in  spiritual  enthusiasm.  It  will  attempt, 
once  more,  to  describe  the  features  of  an  age  when,  in  Scotland, 
the  conflict  was  even  more  keenly  waged,  and  the  tragedy  had 
become  darker  and  more  lurid.  But,  if  we  are  to  understand 
the  later  epoch,  it  will  be  necessary  at  the  outset  to  recall  a 
few  of  the  incidents  in  the  earlier. 

It  is  inevitable  that  we  should  make  our  initial  pilgrimage 
to  the  churchyard  of  the  Greyfriars,  in  Edinburgh. 


2  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Charles  the  First  was  in  somei  respects  the  best  of  the 
Stuarts.  He  was  free  from  the  childishness  of  his  father — 
that  pompous  and  solemn  father,  who  was  "deeply  learned, 
without  possessing  useful  knowledge ;  a  lover  of  negotiations, 
in  which  he  was  always  outwitted ;  fond  of  his  dignity,  while 
he  was  perpetually  degrading  it  by  undue  familiarity ;  laborious 
in  trifles,  and  a  trifler  where  serious  labour  was  required ;  the 
wisest  fool  in  Christendom."  He  had  none  of  the  ribald 
license  of  the  son  who  followed  him  on  the  throne,  nor  of  the 
saturnine  malignity  of  the  other  son  who  had  scarcely  grasped 
the  reins  of  power  when  he  was  compelled  to  lay  them  down. 
But  less  than  either  James  the  Sixth  or  Charles  the  Second 
he  understood  how  to  govern  his  people.  To  the  last  degree 
he  was  opinionative  and  despotic.  He  would  not  bate  a  jot 
of  his  divine  right.  Never  for  a  moment  was  he  disposed  to 
listen  to  the  voices  of  sound  reason  and  popular  liberty.  In  , 
Scotland  especially,  he  rode  roughshod  over  the  convictions  of 
his  subjects,  even  although,  with  a  persistent  and  pathetic 
loyalty,  they  were  ready  to  shed  every  drop  of  their  blood  in 
his  defence.  Matters  reached  a  crisis  on  that  historic  Sabbath, 
the  23rd  of  July  in  1637,  when  the  new  liturgy,  which  the 
King  and  Archbishop  Laud  had  gifted  to  a  nation  thirled  to 
Calvinistic  Presbyterianism,  was  to  be  read  in  the  church  of 
St.  Giles.  Dean  Hanna  was  not  permitted  to  use  the  "  Popish- 
English-Scottish-Mass-Service  Book  "  ;  he,  and  Bishop  Lindsay, 
and  the  authorities  in  London  and  Canterbury,  had  not 
calculated  on  Jenny  Geddes  and  her  compeers.  At  last  the 
Scots  were  in  a  white  heat  of  indignation, 

"  Are  we  so  modest  spirits,"  writes  Kobert  Baillie — and  he 
was  himself  among  the  more  pliable  of  the  ministers  of  the 
Kirk — "  and  are  we  so  towardly  handled,  that  there  is  appear- 
ance we  shall  embrace  in  a  clap  such  a  mass  of  novelties  ? " 
The  one  plea  which  may  be  urged  for  the  sovereign  and  "  little 
Laud"  is  that  they  had  a  totally  inadequate  conception  of 
the  intensity  of  religious  feeling  in  Scotland ;  they  lived  in  a 
fool's  paradise,  like  the  French  officer  in  Alphonse  Daudet's 
story,  who,  up  to  the  very  day  when  the  Germans  entered 
Paris,  dreamed  that  it  was  Prussia  which  was  going  down  in 


PROLOGUE  3 

the  cataclysm  of  1870.  Lord  Clarendon  tells  us  how 
profoundly  indifferent  the  English  people  and  their  leaders 
were  in  those  years  to  everything  which  happened  on  the 
farther  side  of  the  Tweed.  "When  the  whole  nation  was 
solicitous  to  know  what  passed  weekly  in  Germany  and 
Poland  and  all  other  parts  of  Europe,  np  man  ever  inquired 
what  was  doing  in  Scotland,  nor  had  that  kingdom  a  place 
or  mention  of  one  page  of  any  gazette."  It  was  a  silly  and 
culpable  ignorance,  and  the  awakening  was  to  be  swift  and 
stern. 

For  it  was  out  of  the  peril  in  which  the  Scottish  nation 
found  itself  that  there  came  the  renewal  of  the  National 
Covenant.  Two  men,  whose  names  are  written  bright  across 
the  annals  of  the  time,  planned  this  renewal:  Archibald 
Johnston  of  Wariston,  the  young  advocate  of  the  Edinburgh 
courts,  and  Alexander  Henderson,  foremost  and  most  states- 
manlike of  the  Presbyterian  clergymen  of  the  day.  Between 
them  they  framed  the  momentous  charter.  It  consisted  of 
three  portions.  The  first  was  a  reproduction  of  an  older 
Covenant,  the  King's  Confession  of  1581 ;  the  second  enu- 
merated the  various  Acts  of  the  Scottish  Parliament,  which 
condemned  Popery  and  confirmed  the  privileges  of  the 
Eeformed  Church ;  the  third  was  a  grave  and  emphatic 
protest  against  those  alien  modes  of  worship  which  had 
provoked  the  present  troubles.  Wariston  was  author  of  the 
second  portion,  Henderson  of  the  third. 

We  may  hearken  to  the  accents  of  this  Magna  Charta  of 
offended  Presbytery.  "  Because,"  its  writers  say,  "  we  plainly 
perceive,  and  undoubtedly  believe,  that  the  innovations  and 
evils  contained  in  our  supplications,  complaints,  and  protesta- 
tions, have  no  warrant  of  the  Word  of  God,  are  contrary  to  the 
articles  of  our  Confession,  to  the  intention  and  meaning  of  the 
blessed  Reformers  of  religion  in  this  land,  to  the  above-written 
Acts  of  Parliament ;  and  do  sensibly  tend  to  the  re-establishing 
of  the  Popish  religion  and  tyranny,  and  to  the  subversion  and 
ruin  of  the  true  Reformed  religion,  and  of  our  liberties,  laws, 
and  estates :  therefore,  from  the  knowledge  and  conscience  of 
our    duty   to   God,  to   our   King  and  country,  without  any 


4  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

worldly  respect  or  inducement,  so  far  as  liuman  infirmity  will 
suffer,  wishing  a  further  measure  of  the  grace  of  God  for  this 
effect,  we  promise  and  swear,  by  the  great  name  of  the  Lord 
our  God,  to  continue  in  the  profession  and  obedience  of  the 
foresaid  religion ;  and  that  we  shall  defend  the  same,  and 
resist  all  these  contrary  errors  and  corruptions,  according  to 
our  vocation,  and  to  the  uttermost  of  that  power  that  God 
hath  put  in  our  hands,  all  the  days  of  our  life."  Here  is  a 
trumpet  which  gives  no  uncertain  sound.  I>ut  the  Covenanters 
were  careful,  also,  that  there  should  not  be  the  slightest 
diminution  in  the  reverence  they  yielded  to  the  monarch. 
"  On  the  contrary,"  they  avow,  "  we  promise  and  swear  that 
we  shall,  to  the  uttermost  of  our  power,  with  our  means  and 
lives,  stand  to  the  defence  of  our  dread  sovereign."  Surely  it 
was  a  criminal  shortsightedness  which  drove  into  opposition 
citizens  so  leal. 

In  the  churchyard  of  the  Greyfriars,  where  once  the 
monastery  of  tlie  Franciscans  had  stood,  a  new  resting-ground 
of  the  dead  in  Henderson's  time  and  Wariston's,  although 
already  it  held  the  grave  of  George  Buchanan,  the  Covenant 
was  signed.  It  is  to-day  a  romantic  spot  in  the  most  romantic 
town  in  the  world ;  two  centuries  and  a  half  ago  it  must  have 
been  even  more  picturesque,  for  from  its  slope  the  view  was 
unbroken  over  the  wide  space  of  the  Grassmarket  to  the  crags 
of  the  Castle.  But  the  crowds  who  gathered  to  it,  on  this  28th 
of  February  1638,  had  neither  the  leisure  nor  the  inclination 
to  admire  their  natural  surroundings.  They  came  from  every 
Lowland  county  of  Scotland,  and  there  were  not  wanting 
representatives  from  the  remoter  shires  beyond  the  Tay.  It 
is  said  that  there  were  sixty  thousand  persons  in  all;  un- 
consciously the  number  was,  perhaps,  somewhat  exaggerated. 
The  great  nobles,  the  lesser  barons,  the  ministers,  the  burgesses, 
the  common  people  —  from  early  morning  they  had  been 
hurrying  to  the  chosen  meeting-place.  At  two  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  inside  the  church,  the  solemnity  commenced. 
The  Earl  of  Loudoun,  famed  for  his  eloquence,  addressed  the 
densely  packed  congregation.  After  him,  Alexander  Henderson 
offered  up  fervent  prayer.     Then  Archibald  Johnston  lifted  the 


PROLOGUE  5 

"  fair  parchment  above  an  elne  in  sqiiair,"  which  sometimes 
has  been  designated  "  the  Constellation  upon  the  back  of  Aries," 
for  it  was  on  a  splendid  ramskin  that  the  Covenant  had  been 
inscribed.  He  read  its  contents  clearly  and  firmly,  so  that  all 
could  hear.  When  this  was  done,  the  Earl  of  Eothes  called 
for  objectors ;  but  who  in  the  ardent  multitude  had  come  to 
object  ?  Then,  in  every  corner  of  the  church,  right  hands 
were  uplifted,  and  the  oath  to  keep  the  bond  was  sworn,  and 
many  cheeks  were  wet  with  weeping.  The  process  of  subscrib- 
ing followed ;  inside  the  walls  it  went  forward  hour  after  hour. 
Some  wrote  after  their  autograph,  "  Until  death."  Some  "  did 
draw  their  own  blood  and  used  it  in  place  of  ink."  When,  at 
length,  the  ramskin  was  carried  out  to  the  churchyard,  evening 
had  set  in  after  the  short  spring  day.  But  the  people,  wait- 
ing there  excited  and  expectant,  could  not  be  satisfied  until 
many  of  them  too  had  appended  their  names.  There  are  flat 
tombstones  close  beside  the  building,  on  one  or  other  of  which 
the  parchment  must  have  been  spread.  It  was  "  neir  eight " 
ere  the  work  was  over  and  the  crowds  dispersed. 

And  this  was  simply  the  first  step.  When  the  transaction 
in  Greyfriars  was  ended,  the  Covenant  had  still  thousands  of 
adherents  to  win ;  in  a  few  weeks  it  became  very  apparent 
that  it  was  indubitably  the  symbol  of  the  nation's  will. 
Noblemen  and  gentlemen  conveyed  copies  of  the  pregnant 
deed  from  district  to  district,  from  town  to  town,  from  village 
to  village.  The  ministers  explained  and  commended  its 
sentences  from  well-nigh  all  the  pulpits  of  the  land.  Virtually 
the  whole  of  Scotland  signed  it,  the  two  notable  exceptions 
being  the  Episcopal  capital  of  St.  Andrews  and  the  city  of 
Aberdeen — Aberdeen,  whicli  the  young  Marquis  of  Montrose, 
soon  to  be  protagonist  for  the  King,  vainly  attempted  to  coerce 
into  acquiescence.  Those  on  the  other  side  stood  aghast  at 
the  triumphant  march  of  the  movement ;  now  and  then  they 
tried  to  disparage  it,  as  if  it  had  no  real  spontaneity,  but  was 
fed  and  fostered  by  domineering  leaders.  "  If  you  knew,"  one 
of  these  opponents  wrote,  in  April,  to  a  friend  at  Court,  "  what 
odd,  uncouth,  insolent,  and  ridiculous  courses  they  use  to 
draw  in  silly,  ignorant  fools,  fearful  fasards,  women  and  boys, 


6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

I  can  hardly  say  whether  it  would  afford  His  Majesty  more 
occasion  of  laughter  or  anger."  But  the  uprising  was  no 
product  of  compulsion  and  imperious  management.  It  was 
the  unforced  and  -resolute  answer  of  the  Scottish  race  to 
Canterbury  and  Whitehall. 

The  answer  was  one  in  which  patriotism  and  rehgion  were 
blended.  It  was  the  protest  of  an  indomitable  people  against 
the  curtailment  of  political  right  and  freedom,  too  dear  to  lose. 
It  was  the  declaration,  also,  on  the  part  of  a  Church,  which 
loved  intelligently  its  own  simplicities  of  creed  and  worship, 
that  it  could  not  tolerate  the  imposition  of  forms  which  it 
hated,  and  from  which,  not  so  long  before,  it  had  by  a  mighty 
effort  emancipated  itself.  Scotland  was  heartily  willing  to 
acknowledge  Charles,  to  fight  his  battles,  and  to  give  him  her 
unstinted  allegiance ;  but  he  must  not  filch  from  her  either 
her  civic  liberty  or  her  spiritual  birthright.  If  he  touched 
these  treasures,  he  would  find  her  humour  "  thwarteous " 
indeed,  and  he  was  certain  to  confront  a  will  yet  more  decided 
than  his  own. 

The  outlook  for  the  King's  party  did  not  brighten  as 
the  months  wore  on.  When  we  halt  next,  in  the  Cathedral 
of  Glasgow,  to  watch  the  doings  of  the  Assembly  which  held 
its  meetings  within  the  stately  shrine,  we  discover  that  the 
cause  of  Presbytery  has  advanced  by  leaps  and  bounds. 

For  a  full  month,  from  the  21st  of  November  to  the  20th 
of  December,  in  the  same  year  which  witnessed  the  signing  of 
tlie  Covenant,  the  Glasgow  Assembly  was  in  session.  Charles 
had  most  reluctantly  granted  the  ministers  his  permission  to 
come  together ;  so  long  as  he  was  able  he  fought  against  the 
request  of  the  nation.  Through  the  whole  of  summer  and 
autumn  one  obstructive  device  after  another  was  grasped  at  by 
the  Court ;  up  to  London  and  back  to  Edinburgh  the  Marquis 
of  Hamilton,  who  was  the  King's  delegate,  had  journeyed 
again  and  again.  But  nothing  except  the  Assembly  would 
please  the  people ;  and  in  the  end  the  sovereign  gave  way. 
In  August,  letters  of  direction  were  sent  by  the  leaders  in 
Edinburgli  to  the  fifty-three  Presbyteries  of  the  country,  and 


PROLOGUE  7 

even  to  all  the  Kirk-Sessions,  containiug  explicit  instructions 
as  to  the  representatives  who  ought  to  be  elected ;  as  far  as 
might  be,  the  tares  must  be  excluded  from  the  wheatfield  of 
Christ.  At  length  everything  was  ready.  There  were  one 
hundred  and  forty-four  ministers  and  ninety-six  lay  members, 
some  of  these  last  the  highest  noblemen  in  the  land — Kothes, 
and  Lothian,  and  Cassillis,  and  Eglintoun,  and  Montrose,  and 
Wemyss,  and  Home,  And  besides  those  who  were  thus 
commissioned  to  speak  and  act,  we  must  think  of  the  vast 
concourse  of  interested  spectators;  during  the  four  weeks 
when  the  Assembly  was  busy  at  its  epoch-making  tasks, 
Glasgow  had  a  great  addition  to  its  resident  population  of 
twelve  thousand  souls.  No  one  gives  us  a  more  lifelike 
account  of  the  occurrences  of  these  weeks  than  Eobert  Baillie, 
the  vivacious  letter-writer  of  the  Covenant ;  and  the  trouble 
occasioned  by  the  thronging  crowds  is  among  the  themes  on 
which  he  descants.  "  The  Magistrates,  with  their  toun  guard, 
the  noblemen,  with  the  assistance  of  the  gentrie,  whyles  the 
Commissioner  in  person,  could  not  get  us  entrie  to  our  roomes, 
use  what  force,  what  policie  they  could,  without  such  delay 
of  tyme  and  thrumbling  through  as  did  grieve  and  offend  us." 
Nor  were  the  manners  of  the  onlookers  all  that  could  be 
wished.  "It  is  here  alone,"  the  minister  of  Kilwinning  is 
constrained  to  confess,  "  where,  I  think,  we  might  learn  from 
Canterburie,  yea,  from  the  Pope,  from  the  Turkes  or  pagans ; 
at  least  their  deep  reverence  in  the  house  they  call  God's 
ceases  not  till  it  have  led  them  to  the  adoration  of  the  timber 
and  stones  of  the  place.  We  are  so  farr  the  other  way  that 
our  rascals,  without  shame,  in  great  numbers,  make  such  dinn 
and  clamour  in  the  house  of  the  true  God,  that,  if  they  minted 
to  use  the  like  behaviour  in  my  chamber,  I  could  not  be 
content  till  they  were  down  the  stairs."  Now  and  then,  it  was 
a  sadly  turbulent  auditory  which  the  High  Church  housed 
that  memorable  winter. 

Two  figures  are  prominent  in  the  story  of  the  meeting. 

One   is  the   Moderator,  Alexander   Henderson,   of   Leuchars. 

\/  Until  he  was  upwards  of  fifty  years  of  age,  he  was  the  studious 

and  hard-working  minister  of  his  quiet  country  parish.     It 


8  MEN  OP'  THE  COVENANT 

was  the  urgency  of  the  national  crisis  which  drew  him  from 
obscurity.  But,  when  he  stepped  into  the  arena  of  public 
affairs,  his  commanding  powers  and  unfailing  sagacity  made 
him  the  captain  of  the  Church.  He  was  little  of  stature,  with 
a  pensive  face;  one  would  scarcely  guess  from  the  exterior 
of  the  man  what  wisdom  and  what  courage  resided  within. 
"  Every  knight,"  said  Tristram  of  Arthur,  "  may  learn  to  be  a 
knight  of  him ; "  and  Dickson,  and  Kutherfurd,  and  Cant,  and 
Bollock  had  the  same  tribute  to  pay  to  Henderson.  He  was, 
BailUe  wrote,  "  incomparably  the  ablest  man  of  us  all  for  all 
things."  "  In  every  strait  and  conflict "  —  it  is  Professor 
Masson's  testimony — "he  had  to  be  appealed  to,  and  came 
in  at  the  last  as  the  man  of  supereminent  composure,  com- 
prehensiveness, and  breadth  of  brow."  We  do  not  wonder 
that,  instinctively  and  unanimously,  he  was  summoned  to  the 
presidency  of  the  Glasgow  Assembly. 

The  other  figure  is  different.  It  is  that  of  the  Eoyal 
Commissioner,  the  Marquis  of  Hamilton.  His  portrait  has 
been  drawn  for  us  by  the  friendly  hand  of  Bishop  Burnet ; 
and,  even  when  we  have  allowed  for  the  partialities  of  an 
apologist,  it  remains  a  courtly  and  gracious  portrait.  "An 
unclouded  serenity  dwelt  always  on  his  looks,  and  dis- 
covered him  ever  well-pleased ; "  "  one  advantage  he  had 
beyond  all  he  engaged  with  in  debating,  that  he  was  never 
fretted  nor  exasperated,  and  spake  at  the  same  rate  with- 
out clamouring  or  eagerness ; "  his  tones,  like  those  of 
Christina  Eossetti's  Princess,  were 

modulated  just  so  much 
As  it  was  meet : 

and  these  were  valuable  assets  in  the  envoy  who  was  sent  to 
propitiate  the  militant  theologians  of  his  native  country.  A 
clinging  pathos,  too,  haunts  the  person  of  the  ill-fated  soldier, 
who,  rather  more  than  ten  years  after  his  experiences  in 
Glasgow,  laid  down  his  head  on  the  block  for  his  kingly 
master.  On  the  scaffold  he  bore  himself  as  bravely  as  Charles 
had  done :  "  when  he  was  desired  to  change  the  Posture  he 
stood  in,  since  the  Sun  shined  full  in  his  Face,  he  answered 


ALEXANDER   HENDERSON. 
From  the  Portrait  belongiivj  to  the  Hendersons  of  Fordel. 


PROLOGUE  9 

pleasantly, '  No,  it  would  not  burn  it,  and  he  hoped  to  see  a 
brighter  Sun  than  that  very  speedily.'"  But,  with  all  his 
winning  qualities,  there  was  nothing  impressive  about  the 
Marquis.  His  abilities  were  superficial.  He  had  neither 
much  depth  of  character  nor  much  strength  of  will;  his 
mother,  one  of  the  most  zealous  ladies  of  •  the  Covenant,  was 
endowed  with  immeasurably  more  spirit  than  her  son.  It 
might  have  been  predicted  beforehand  that,  in  conflict  with 
Alexander  Henderson,  the  Commissioner  was  destined  to 
defeat. 

The  defeat  came  a  week  after  the  Assembly  met.  On  the 
morning  of  the  28th  of  ISTovember,  the  King's  spokesman,  who 
had  been  challenghig  the  conduct  of  the  members  ever  since 
they  convened,  addressed  them  for  the  last  time.  He  objected 
to  the  presence  of  the  lay  elders,  the  influence  of  many  of 
whom  Charles  greatly  dreaded:  were  they  all,  he  asked 
sarcastically,  "fit  to  judge  of  the  high  and  deep  Mysteries 
of  Predestination,  of  the  Universality  of  Eedemption,  of  the 
Sufficiency  of  Grace  given  or  not  given  to  all  men,  of  the 
Eesistibility  of  Grace,  of  total  and  final  Perseverance  or 
Apostasie  of  the  Saints,  of  the  Antelapsarian  or  Postlapsarian 
Opinion,  of  Election  and  Eeprobation  ?  "  Still  more  decisively, 
he  denied  the  right  which  the  Assembly  claimed,  and  which 
it  was  resolved  to  exercise,  of  passing  sentence  on  the  Bishops : 
the  citations,  commanding  the  prelates  to  appear  at  its  bar, 
had  been  read  in  the  pulpits  of  the  country,  "  which  is  not 
usual  in  this  Church";  and,  moreover,  men  pledged  to  the 
assertions  of  the  Covenant  never  could  deal  fairly  with  the 
representatives  of  Episcopacy — "who  ever  heard  of  such 
Judges  as  have  sworn  themselves  Parties?"  If  the  dogged 
Presbyterians  in  front  of  him  intended  to  persevere  in  their 
determination,  the  Commissioner  declared  with  tears,  tears 
which  "  drew  water  from  many  eyes,"  that  he  must  leave  the 
Assembly,  and  must  pronounce  it  dissolved  and  its  enactments 
invalid  and  worthless.  Yes,  the  Moderator  replied,  unruffled 
and  tranquil,  they  had  no  choice  but  to  remain  until  their 
duty  was  done.  So  the  Marquis  passed  out  of  the  Cathedral, 
and  next  day  issued  his  proclamation,  ordering  every  person 


lo  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

who  was  not  resident  in   Glasgow  to  depart  from   the   city 
within  twenty-four  hours. 

But,  unperturbed  by  the  proclamation,  the  members  of 
Assembly  sat  on, -and  pursued  their  work  to  its  completion. 
The  victory  in  the  duel  rested  with  Henderson — Henderson, 
"  who  went  all  this  while  for  a  quiet  and  calm-spuited  man," 
Laud  wrote  in  a  letter  of  condolence  to  Hamilton,  "  but  who 
hath  shewed  himself  a  most  violent  and  passionate  man,  and  a 
Moderator  without  Moderation."  The  walls  of  Jericho,  as  this 
intrepid  Joshua  of  the  Scottish  Church  phrased  it,  were  pulled 
down  with  a  thoroughness  which  satisfied  the  Israel  of  the 
Covenant.  The  Acts  of  previous  Assemblies,  ratifying  Epis- 
copacy, were  annulled.  The  Service  Book,  and  the  Canons, 
and  the  Court  of  High  Commission,  and  the  Articles  of  Perth, 
were  swept  away.  Eight  of  the  Bishops  were  excommunicated, 
and  the  other  six  were  deposed  or  suspended.  The  National 
Covenant  was  confirmed.  On  the  ruins  of  the  Prelacy,  which 
Scotland  found  so  distasteful,  the  fabric  of  Presbyterianism 
rose  again  fair  and  strong. 

Close  upon  five  years  have  passed — years  crowded  with 
stirring  events,  with  plots  and  counterplots,  with  rumours  of 
battle  and  actual  unsheathings  of  the  sword.  When  we  pause 
next  in  our  hasty  survey,  the  English  Civil  War  is  in  progress, 
and  Kin<x  Charles  and  his  Parliament  have  abandoned  their 
wordy  quarrels  for  "  strenuous  trump  and  drum."  The  time 
is  Monday,  the  25th  of  September  1643,  and  the  place  is 
St.  Margaret's  Church  at  Westminster. 

There  and  then  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  was  sworn, 
by  two  hundred  and  twenty  members  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  by  the  divines  of  the  great  Westminster  Assembly,  which 
had  now  been  deliberating  for  nearly  three  months.  The  Solemn 
League  and  Covenant — and  what  was  it  ?  Eobert  Burns  sings 
its  eulogy,  when  he  declares  that  it  "  sealed  Freedom's  sacred 
cause."  Henry  Hallam  summarises  its  contents  in  one  long 
sentence,  which  yet  is  admirably  clear :  "  The  Covenant 
consisted  in  an  oath,  to  be  subscribed  by  all  persons  in  both 
kingdoms,  whereby   they  bound   themselves   to  preserve   the 


PROLOGUE  II 

Keformed  religion  iu  tiie  Churcli  of  Scotland,  in  doctrine, 
worship,  discipline,  and  government,  according  to  the  Word 
of  God  and  practice  of  the  best  Eeformed  Churches ;  and  to 
endeavour  to  bring  the  Churches  of  God,  in  the  three  kingdoms, 
to  the  nearest  conjunction  and  uniformity  in  religion,  Confession 
of  Faith,  form  of  Church  government.  Directory  for  Worship, 
and  catechising ;  to  endeavour,  without  respect  of  persons,  the 
extirpation  of  Popery,  Prelacy,  and  whatsoever  should  be  found 
contrary  to  sound  doctrine  and  the  power  of  godliness ;  to 
preserve  the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  Parliaments,  and  the 
liberties  of  the  kingdoms,  and  the  King's  person  and  authority 
in  the  preservation  and  defence  of  the  true  religion  and  liberties 
of  the  kingdoms  ;  to  endeavour  the  discovery  of  incendiaries  and 
nialignants,  who  hinder  the  reformation  of  religion  and  divide 
the  King  from  his  people,  that  they  may  be  brought  to  punish- 
ment ;  finally,  to  assist  and  defend  all  such  as  should  enter  into 
this  Covenant,  and  not  suffer  themselves  to  be  withdrawn 
from  it,  whether  to  revolt  to  the  opposite  party,  or  to  give  in 
to  a  detestable  indifference  and  neutrality."  Once  we  have 
mastered  Hallam's  sentence,  we  understand  the  aims  of  the 
Solemn  League. 

It  takes  in  a  wider  area  than  its  forerunner,  the  National 
Covenant  of  Scotland.  It  is  anxious  for  the  spiritual  prosperity 
of  England  and  Ireland,  no  less  than  for  the  welfare  of  their 
Northern  neighbour.  And  how  has  the  enlargement  of  horizon 
come  about  ?  The  explanation  is  not  difficult  to  find.  It  is 
due  to  the  ill  success  which,  in  the  opening  months  of  the  War, 
attends  the  Parliamentary  armies.  Eeverse  after  reverse  has 
fallen  on  their  standards.  The  clouds  are  massed  ominously 
overhead.  It  is  time,  the  chiefs  in  London  think,  to  appeal  for 
aid  to  the  Scots.  So  a  deputation  goes  to  the  Convention 
of  Estates  in  Edinbvirgh  and  to  the  General  Assembly  in  St. 
Andrews — four  members  of  it  from  the  Commons, of  whom  young 
Sir  Harry  Vane  is  the  best  known,  and  two  members  from  the 
divines  in  King  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel,  Stephen  Marshall 
and  Philip  Nye.  Their  petition  is  successful.  They  secure 
that  Scotland  shall  not  hold  aloof  from  the  strife,  and  shall 
not  attempt  to  mediate  between  Poyalisl  and  liuundhcad,  but 


12  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

shall  in  effective  fashion  stretch  out  a  hand  of  succour  to  the 
struggling  forces  of  the  Parliament.  But  there  must  be  a 
formal  treaty  between  the  nations.  The  deputies — Philip  Nye, 
the  stout  Independent,  foremost  in  the  argument — would  prefer 
it  to  be  purely  political,  occupying  itself  with  nothing  more 
than  the  liberties  of  the  kingdoms ;  but  the  Scots,  with  whom 
the  affairs  of  the  soul  and  the  interests  of  the  cause  of  God 
bulk  biggest,  want  something  deeper.  "  The  English  were  for 
a  civil  league,  we  for  a  religious  covenant,"  writes  Eobert 
Baillie.  The  suppliants  from  London  have  to  yield  the  point ; 
and  Alexander  Henderson — always,  like  William  of  Deloraine,  i/ 
"  good  at  need  " — draws  up  the  bond.  This  bond  it  is,  with  a 
few  emendations,  which  is  sworn  in  St.  Margaret's,  sworn  after- 
wards throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  England,  as  well  as 
in  the  Scotland  where  such  Covenants  have  their  native  air  and 
most  congenial  home. 

Looking  at  the  Solemn  League  and  at  its  Scottish  pre- 
decessor, what  judgment  shall  we  pronounce  upon  them  ?  It 
will  be  strange  if  we  do  not  admit  that  the  ends  which 
they  sought  were  sublime  and  sacred.  Above  all  things  else, 
their  framers  desired  the  victory  of  true  religion  in  the  land. 
No  doubt,  it  was  one  particular  variety  of  religion  which  most 
of  these  high-thoughted  men  were  eager  to  have  rooted  and 
grounded  among  their  fellow-citizens — the  variety  which  we 
know  as  Calvinistic  Presbyterianism.  The  Solemn  League 
may  not  insist,  in  so  many  words,  that  this  shall  be  the  system 
of  dogmatic  faith  and  Church  government  to  be  accepted  by 
England  and  Ireland ;  but  it  was  the  well-defined  goal  towards 
which  Henderson  and  his  comrades  panted  with  zealous  hearts. 
It  was  no  unworthy  goal.  The  Genevan  creed  has  bred  a 
glorious  multitude  of  stalwart  spirits.  The  Presbyterian 
Church  has  been  a  hearth  at  which  many  heroes  and  saints 
have  gained  an  enriching  nurture.  For  few  grander  purposes 
have  men  ever  banded  themselves  than  for  the  realisation  of 
the  Covenanting  ideal.  But  an  oath  so  lofty,  if  it  is  to  be 
valid,  must  always  ])e  voluntary.  It  must  utter  the  conviction 
of  each  person  who  swears  it.  It  must  not  be  imposed  on 
dubious  and  wavering  souls,  and  far  less  on  souls  unfriendly 


PROLOGUE  13 

and  hostile.  This  was  one  respect  in  which  the  Covenanters 
erred,  one  mistaken  course  which  sowed  seeds  of  weakness  in 
their  dedicated  ranks.  So  hungry  they  were  for  uniformity 
in  spiritual  things — so  anxious  to  see  fulfilled  the  high  aspira- 
tion of  Sir  David  Lindsay  of  the  Mount, 

Habitare  fratres  in  unum 

Is  a  blissful  thing ; 
One  God,  One  Faith,  One  Baptism  pure, 

One  Lnw,  One  Land,  One  King ! — 

that  they  were  prepared  to  coerce  their  countrymen,  if  these 
should  be  unwilling,  into  nominal  agreement  with  themselves. 
The  method  was  wrong ;  there  is  none  to-day  who  will  be  its 
advocate ;  and  yet  the  men  themselves  were  crusaders  of 
Jesus  Christ.  They  wished  to  have  Him  enthroned  over  the 
country  which  they  loved  with  more  than  the  patriot's 
aifection.  It  was  His  crown  which  was  the  oriflamme  of 
their  holy  war.  For  His  inalienable  rights  they  counted  no 
peril  too  hazardous  and  no  sacrifice  too  great. 

It  is  easy  to  accuse  them  of  want  of  tolerance.  We  do 
not  pledge  ourselves  now  to  "  the  extirpation  "  of  any  form  of 
religious  belief;  our  minds  are  too  hospitable  and  catholic. 
But,  with  one  or  two  inspiring  exceptions,  the  men  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  whatever  their  opinion  and  Church, 
showed  none  of  the  modern  comprehensiveness.  Oliver 
Cromwell  had  it  among  the  Independents,  and  Jeremy  Taylor 
amongst  Episcopalians ;  but  how  many  agreed  with  them  ? 
The  Liberty  of  Prophesying  was  published  four  summers  after 
the  solemnity  in  St.  Margaret's.  It  advocated  the  admission 
to  Christian  fellowship  of  everyone  who  from  the  heart  could 
repeat  the  Apostles'  Creed.  It  suggested  no  more  stringent 
and  elaborate  test.  Few  forget  the  beautiful  apologue  with 
which  it  concludes :  how,  one  evening,  Abraham  sat  at  his 
tent  door,  waiting  to  entertain  strangers,  and  saw  coming  to 
him  a  weary  old  man,  who  was  a  hundred  years  of  age  ;  how 
he  provided  supper  for  him,  but,  when  the  wayfarer  asked 
no  blessing  on  his  meat,  and  acknowledged  himself  a  fire- 
worshipper,  the  patriarch  in  his  zeal  thrust  him  out  of  the  tent, 


14  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

and  exposed  him  to  all  the  evils  of  the  darkness ;  how  then 
God  rebuked  Abraham — "  I  have  suffered  him  these  hundred 
years,  although  he  dishonoured  Me ;  and  couldst  not  thou 
endure  him  for  one  night,  when  he  gave  thee  no  trouble  ? " — 
and  so  Abraham  fetched  the  stranger  back,  and  lodged  him 
kindly,  and  lavished  on  liim  the  wisest  instruction.  The 
Covenanters  would  have  detected  in  the  apologue  a  "  detest- 
able indifference  and  neutrality  " ;  but  so  would  nine  out  of  every 
ten  of  their  compatriots  ;  the  era  of  broad-mindedness  had  not 
dawned  when  they  climbed  their  uphill  road.  And,  after  all, 
there  is  something  to  be  urged  on  behalf  of  their  uncompro- 
mising assertion  of  principle.  Persecution  is  indefensible  and 
shameful.  It  is  both  a  blunder  and  a  sin.  But  men  should 
be  fully  persuaded  in  their  own  minds,  and  ready  to  give  a 
sufficient  reason  for  the  faith  which  is  in  them.  There  is 
a  poor  and  pitiful  tolerance  as  well  as  a  tolerance  which  is 
magnanimous  and  Godlike;  a  pseudo- charity  which  is  not 
careful  to  search  out  the  truth,  that  it  may  rejoice  in  it ;  a 
shallowness  and  a  cowardice  which  are  destitute  of  convictions 
of  any  sort,  and  too  nerveless  to  say,  "  Stand  thou  on  that  side, 
for  on  this  am  I." 

Nothing  should  commend  the  adherents  of  the  Covenant  to 
the  children  of  the  twentieth  century  more  than  their  wisely 
balanced  love  of  freedom.  They  were  invincible  haters  of 
despotism.  There  were  prerogatives  of  Parliament  and  of  the 
people  which  they  would  surrender  to  no  one.  They  could 
not  find  room  in  their  polity  for  a  tyrant.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  kept  an  unbounded  loyalty  for  the  monarch  who 
respected  their  native  and  proper  rights.  Not  serfs  and  feudal 
vassals,  but  constitutional  subjects — that  is  what  they  aspired 
to  be.  The  King's  person  and  authority  shall  be  jealously  \/ 
preserved,  they  said,  if  in  his  turn  he  preserves  the  true 
religion  and  the  liberties  of  the  commonweal.  In  the 
Scotland  of  that  day,  however  it  might  be  in  England,  there 
was  nowhere  any  craving  for  a  republic ;  there  was  a  universal 
and  even  a  passionate  anxiety  to  guard  the  name  and  fame  of 
Charles.  It  was  he  who  squandered  a  heritage  of  devotion 
and   obedience  which  he   might  have   retained  to   his  latest 


PROLOGUE  15 

hour.  It  was  because  he  was  a  rebel  against  justice  and  law 
that  he  drove  into  rebellion  those  who  would  have  spent  their 
lives  to  promote  his  good. 

Eound  a  scaffold,  in  the  Edinburgh  market-place,  between 
the  Mercat  Cross  and  the  Tron  Church,  a  great  multitude  is 
gathered.  It  is  a  May  afternoon  in  1650,  and  the  people 
have  come  out  to  witness  the  execution  of  James  Graham, 
Marquis  of  Montrose,  and  to  hear  his  last  words.  In  reality 
they  hear  nothing ;  the  sufferer  is  allowed  to  address  himself 
only  to  those  who  stand  closest  to  him,  immediately  under  the 
gallows  thirty  feet  high.  But  they  see  him  die  with  undis- 
mayed face,  and  with  that  gay  and  proud  bravado  which  has 
always  marked  "  the  finest  gallant  in  the  realm."  And  then 
the  whole  crowd  "  gave  a  general  groan ;  and  it  was  very 
observable  that  even  those  who  at  first  appearance  had  bitterly 
inveighed  against  him  could  not  now  abstain  from  tears." 

What  has  brought  the  Marquis  of  Montrose,  while  he  is 
yet  in  the  early  prime  of  his  manhood,  to  this  grim  scaffold 
covered  with  the  black  cloth  ? 

It  is  impossible  to  linger  over  the  incidents  of  his  career, 
although  few  histories  have  such  extraordinary  fascination. 
We  have  seen  him  with  his  peers  signing  the  National  Cove- 
nant in  the  Greyfriars,  and  attempting  afterwards  to  school 
the  men  of  Aberdeen,  "  that  unnatural  town,"  into  acquiescence 
with  its  terms.  To  the  end  he  protested  his  fidelity  to  the 
purely  Scottish  Covenant ;  it  was  the  Solemn  League,  he  said, 
which  angered  him,  because  it  pledged  the  subjects  of  the 
State,  under  cover  of  religion,  to  wrest  the  regal  authority  from 
their  King.  But  his  attachment  to  the  popular  side  never 
could  have  been  deep;  by  the  summer  of  1640,  when  Charles 
and  the  Scots  were  at  war,  and  when  he  was  himself  an  officer 
amongst  the  Presbyterians,  he  was  in  correspondence  with  the 
sovereign.  Was  it  because  he  was  displeased  that  Alexander 
Leslie  had  received  the  supreme  command  in  the  army  ?  Or 
was  it  that  the  King,  who  had  not  given  him  at  first  the 
notice  and  regard  which  he  thought  due  to  his  quality,  was 
manifestly  disposed  now  to  cultivate  his  friendship  ?     Or  was 


i6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

it  that  he  was  indignant  at  the  larger  respect  shown  by  the 
Covenanters  to  Argyll,  his  hereditary  rival  ?  —  "  The  people 
looked  upon  them  both,"  Lord  Clarendon  writes,  "as  young 
men  of  unlimited  ambition,  and  used  to  say  that  they  were  like 
Caesar  and  Pompey  :  the  one  would  endure  no  superior,  and 
the  other  would  have  no  equal."  Perhaps  there  was  a  ming- 
ling of  all  three  motives,  although  the  last  may  well  have  been 
the  strongest ;  for  Montrose  never  loved  Argyll,  and  could  not 
brook  that  he  should  outdistance  him  in  the  race.  One 
way  or  another,  it  befell  that  soon  King  Charles  had  not 
a  doughtier  champion  than  James  Graham. 

Not  a  doughtier ;  for  what  an  astonishing  soldier  he 
proved  himself  !  In  the  records  of  war,  there  are  few 
leaders  of  a  guerilla  campaign  who  have  achieved  so  much, 
or  who  deserve  better  to  be  crowned  with  the  laurel.  At  a 
time  when,  in  England,  the  Eoyalist  cause  was  travelling 
rapidly  downward,  he  gained  for  it  in  Scotland,  with  his 
Highlanders  and  Irishmen,  one  amazing  success  after  another. 
At  Tippermuir,  the  onset  of  the  mountaineers  was  irresistible, 
and  at  night  three  hundred  Covenanters  lay  stark  on  the  field. 
At  the  Bridge  of  Dee,  his  men  gave  the  Gordons,  by  and  by  to 
be  allies  and  not  foes,  "  the  broadsword  and  the  butt-end  of 
their  muskets,"  and  drove  them  in  headlong  flight  into  the 
streets  of  Aberdeen.  At  Inverlochy,  he  humbled  all  the 
glory  of  his  great  antagonist,  and  fifteen  hundred  of  the  clans- 
men of  Argyll  were  slain  either  in  the  battle  or  in  the 
relentless  pursuit  which  went  on  for  nine  long  miles.  At 
Auldearn,  at  Alford,  at  Kilsyth,  each  victory  following  hard 
on  the  heels  of  its  fellow,  the  best  soldiers  whom  the  Scottish 
Estates  could  send  against  him  were  mowed  down  in  battalions, 
and  massacred  without  ruth  or  regret.  Into  ten  or  eleven 
months  in  1644  and  1645,  Montrose  crowded  marches  and 
surprises  and  triumphs  sufficient  to  last  most  generals  for 
a  lifetime.  But  then  the  end  came.  At  Philiphaugh,  in 
September  of  the  later  year,  in  a  district  which  had  no  love 
for  the  cause  he  maintained,  and  in  which  his  patrols  and 
scouts  could  glean  little  news  beforehand,  he  met  David 
Leslie  and  was   hopelessly   vanquished.     James   Graham  in- 


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ii 

JAMES  GRAHAM,    MARQUIS  OF   MONTROSE, 
From  the  Portrait  by  Honthorst,  1649. 


PROLOGUE  17 

disputably  had  won  the  right  to  make  the  noble  boast  of  Sir 
Peter  Harpdon  in  the  poem — 

I  like  the  straining  game 
Of  striving  well  to  hold  up  things  that  fall. 

But,  with  whatever  preternatural  skill  the  chivalrous  game  is 
played,  the  unavoidable  doom  descends  at  last. 

For  rather  more  than  four  years  he  was  in  exile  on  the 
Continent,  in  Norway  and  the  Netherlands ;  and  then  at  the 
bidding  of  the  Second  Charles — because,  in  the  interval,  the 
First  had  fought  his  last  and  kingliest  fight — he  returned  to 
Scotland,  to  make  one  endeavour  more  in  defence  of  that 
discredited  Stuart  name  whose  bravest  standard-bearer  he 
was.  But  his  new  master  was  of  meaner  nature  than  the 
old.  He  acted  the  traitor  towards  his  good  henchman.  He 
was  parleying  with  the  Covenanters,  all  the  while  that  he 
encouraged  their  foremost  opponent  with  valiant  and  unreal 
promises ;  he  did  not  deserve  a  squire  so  steadfast.  It  was 
to  death  that  Montrose  had  sailed,  death  in  which  shame  and 
glory  were  strangely  united.  At  Carbisdale,  in  the  Kyle  of 
Sutherland,  he  was  defeated  by  Colonel  Strachan,  and,  after 
wandering  in  disguise  through  the  wilds  of  Assynt,  he  was 
made  prisoner  at  Ardvreck  Castle.  They  sent  him  south  to 
Edinburgh,  where  he  was  loaded  with  a  hundred  unmerited 
insults,  bearing  himself  through  all  the  ignominy  with  the 
half-contemptuous  courage  which  friends  and  foes  knew  so 
well.  At  length — and,  after  the  blows  he  had  inflicted  and 
the  damage  he  had  done,  he  could  expect  nothing  else — they  con- 
demned him  to  the  gallows  of  which  we  have  had  a  glimpse.  He 
arrayed  himself  for  it  as  he  would  have  done  for  his  wedding. 
John  NicoU,  the  notary-public,  was  among  the  eye-witnesses, 
and  this  is  what  he  saw :  "  In  his  doun  going  fra  the  Tolbuith 
to  the  place  of  execution,  he  was  verrie  rychlie  cled  in  fyne 
scarlet,  layd  over  with  riche  silver  lace,  his  hat  in  his  hand, 
his  goldin  hat-ban,  his  stokingis  of  incarnet  silk,  and  his 
schooes  with  their  ribbenes  on  his  feet,  and  sarkis  provydit  for 
him  with  pearling  about ;  above  ten  pund  the  elne.  All  these 
war  provydit  for  him  be  his  friendis ;  and  ane  prettie  cassik 


i8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

put  upone  him,  upone  the  scaffold,  quhairin  he  was  hangit. 
To  be  schoirt,  nothing  was  heir  deficient  to  honour  his  pure 
carcage,  moir  beseiming  a  brydegroom  nor  a  criminall."  And 
thus  his  death  was  in  consonance  with  his  life ;  for,  to  quote 
Lord  Clarendon  again,  "  He  was  not  without  vanity ;  but  his 
virtues  were  much  superior,  and  he  well  deserved  to  have  his 
memory  preserved  and  celebrated  among  the  most  illustrious 
persons  of  the  age." 

One  could  wish  that  Neil  Macleod  of  Assynt  had 
surrendered  to  the  kindlier  impulses  of  his  soul,  and  had 
permitted  his  splendid  captive  to  escape.  Assuredly  one 
could  wish  that  Lord  Lome  had  kept  away  from  the  balconies 
of  Moray  House,  when  the  cart  that  carried  the  Marquis,  bare- 
headed and  bound  to  his  seat,  was  driven  up  the  slope  of  the 
Canongate.  One  almost  reverences  Bishop  Wishart,  otlierwise 
by  no  means  very  admirable,  for  his  unconquerable  affection 
to  his  dear  patron,  Jacohis  Montisrosarum  Marchio ;  it  was  his 
little  book  of  Montrose  s  Deeds  which  the  executioner  fastened 
round  the  sufferer's  neck  on  the  scaffold;  and  are  they  not 
fine  lines  which  close  his  elegy  over  his  stricken  hero  ? — 

Verus  amor  nullis  fortunae  extingiiitur  undis ; 

Nulla  timet  fati  fulmina  verus  amor  ; 
Immortalis  amor  verus  manet,  et  sibi  semper 

Constat,  et  teternum,  quisquis  amavit,  amat. 

Yet  we  cannot  forget  that  there  are  ugly  blots  on  James 
Graham's  escutcheon.  In  many  of  the  features  of  his 
character  he  was  a  Mediaeval  knight,  who  might  have  stepped 
out  of  the  chapters  of  Sir  Thomas  Malory ;  but  there  was  that 
about  him,  too,  which  was  far  from  knightly.  The  cavalier's 
ideal  of  Honour  has  been  resolved  into  the  four  constituents 
of  Courage,  Loyalty,  Truthfulness,  and  Compassion.  In  the 
first  two  qualities  the  Marquis  was  resplendent ;  the  third 
seems  lacking,  when  we  recall  his  desertion  of  the  Covenanting 
ranks  for  those  of  the  King,  although  in  this  he  answered  the 
summons  of  his  real  predilections;  but  of  the  fourth,  the 
quality  of  mercy,  the  grace  of  compassion,  he  showed  scarcely 
a  trace.     When  the  blameless  King  of    romance  has  beaten 


PROLOGUE  19 

his  enemies,  he  takes  their  dead  bodies,  and  these  he  "  did  do 
balm  and  gum  with  many  good  gums  aromatic,  and  after  did 
do  cere  them  in  sixty  fold  of  cered  cloth  of  vSendal,  and  laid 
them  in  chests  of  lead,  because  they  should  not  chafe  nor 
savour;  and  upon  all  these  bodies  were  set  their  shields 
with  their  arms  and  banners."  No  such  gleams  of  human 
feeling  illumine  the  story  of  Montrose's '  campaigns.  His 
victories  were  followed  by  a  carnage  which  was  fright- 
ful. He  does  not  appear  to  have  imposed  any  check  on 
the  sanguinary  vindictiveness  of  the  rough  hillmen  whom 
he  captained.  We  pity  his  sore  tragedy;  we  kindle  at  the 
recollection  of  the  markman  safe  and  sure,  "  whom  neither 
force  nor  fawning  could  unpin " ;  but,  if  he  had  been  cast 
in  a  gentler  mould,  the  great  Marquis  would  have  been 
greater  still. 

Seven  months  have  gone.  It  is  the  New  Year's  Day  of 
1651.  We  are  in  the  Parish  Church  of  Scone,  spectators  of 
an  event  no  less  memorable  than  the  coronation  of  His 
Majesty,  King  Charles  the  Second.  Eobert  Douglas  has 
preached  "  a  very  pertinent,  wise,  and  good  sermon "  from  a 
text  in  the  Second  Book  of  Kings :  And  he  h'ough.t  forth  the 
King's  son,  and  'put  the  crown  upon  him,  mul  yave  him  the 
testimony;  and  they  made  him  Kin y,  and  anointed  him;  and 
they  clapped  their  ha7ids,  and  said,  God  save  the  King  !  And 
Jchoiada  made  a  covenant  between  the  Lord  and  the  King  and 
the  people,  that  they  shoidd  he  the  Lord's  people.  He  has  spoken 
some  home  truths  about  the  bounds  and  limits  of  the  monarch's 
power :  how  he  must  not  use  his  strength  unduly,  or  break 
his  contract  with  his  subjects ;  how,  if  he  does,  they  will  be 
amply  justified  in  resisting  his  despotism.  Charles,  we  are 
told,  listens  "  with  all  appearance  of  interest."  The  Covenants, 
National  and  Solemn  League,  are  read  to  him  next,  and  sworn 
by  his  lips,  and  subscribed  by  his  hand.  And  now  Archibald, 
Marquis  of  Argyll,  places  the  crown  on  the  young  man's  brow 
— he  will  not  see  his  twenty-first  birthday  for  five  months 
yet ;  and  he  is  presented  to  receive  the  homage  of  his  nobles 
and  people.     The  Earl  of   Crawford  and  Lindsay  gives  him 


20  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  sceptre,  while  Argyll  conducts  him  to  the  throne,  or  chair 
of  state,  which  has  been  erected  some  six  feet  above  the  floor 
of  the  church.  As  he  installs  him,  the  Marquis  pronounces 
the  words :  "  Stand  and  hold  fast  from  henceforth  the  place, 
whereof  you  are  the  lawful  and  righteous  heir  by  a  long  and 
lineal  succession  of  your  fathers,  which  is  now  delivered  unto 
you  by  authority  of  Almighty  God."  After  which  Robert 
Douglas  has  some  additional  counsels  and  warnings  to  give, 
and  the  20tli  Psalm  is  sung,  and  the  apostolic  benediction  ends 
the  service. 

It  is  not  a  transaction  on  which  we  can  look  back  with  joy 
or  pride.  Seldom  in  history  has  there  been  a  more  conspicuous 
example  of  "  faith  unfaithful."  Both  the  prince  and  the 
leaders  of  the  Covenant  w'ere,  in  this  instance,  unpardonably 
in  the  wrong.  Robert  Douglas  was  a  man  of  public  spirit 
and  of  profound  religion ;  but  when  one  asks  whetlier 
Alexander  Henderson,  whose  voice  had  been  stilled  in  death  ^/ 
nearly  five  years  before,  would  have  helped  Charles  the 
Second  to  his  kingdom,  the  answer  must  be,  ]S"o. 

Very  keenly  the  Scots  had  resented  the  execution  of 
Charles  the  First.  It  snapped  the  ties  which  united  them 
with  the  Parliament  of  England.  With  few  exceptions,  it 
made  them  the  adherents  of  the  martyred  sovereign's  son. 
Within  a  week  of  his  father's  death  they  proclaimed  him,  in 
Edinburgh,  "King  of  Great  P>ritain,  France,  and  Ireland." 
Twice  over,  in  the  months  which  succeeded,  they  sent 
embassies  across  the  German  Ocean  to  treat  with  him.  At 
first  he  and  they  could  not  come  to  terms.  It  was  hard 
for  him,  being  what  he  was,  to  promise  obedience  to  the 
Covenants.  It  was  hard,  though  it  should  have  been  infinitely 
harder,  to  part  with  Montrose,  whom  the  Scottish  Parliament 
had  outlawed  and  the  Scottish  Assembly  had  excommunicated. 
There  were  Royalist  noblemen  in  his  retinue  who  urged  him 
to  resist  demands  so  drastic.  There  was  the  Queen  Mother, 
of  more  decided  character  than  himself,  who  sent  message 
after  message,  adjuring  him  never  to  trammel  himself  with 
vows  and  oaths  repugnant  to  them  both,  and  never  to  abandon 
the  followers  whose  sympathies  were  identical  with  his  own. 


PROLOGUE  21 

Moreover,  he  had  the  hope  that  among  the  Irish  Catholics, 
rather  than  among  dour  and  precise  Presbyterians,  he  might 
tind  the  deliverers  he  needed.  So  the  Commissioners,  to  their 
great  "  discomfort  and  grief,"  had  to  kiss  his  hands  and  say 
their  farewells.  "It  were  all  the  pities  in  the  world  bot  he 
were  in  good  companie,"  wrote  Kobert  Baillie,  who  was  one  of 
them.  "  He  is  one  of  the  most  gentle,  innocent,  well-inclyned 
Princes,  so  far  as  yet  appears,  that  lives;  a  trimme  person, 
and  of  a  manlie  carriage ;  understands  prettie  well ;  speaks 
not  much  :     Would  God  he  were  amongst  us  !  " 

But  Oliver  Cromwell  and  his  soldier-saints  soon  dispelled 
the  vain  dream  of  help  from  Ireland;  and,  when  the  Scots 
returned,  Charles  was  willing  to  promise  them  all.  We  have 
seen  how,  playing  a  double  part  with  that  cool  heartlessness 
of  which  afterwards  he  was  to  furnish  many  proofs,  he  had 
meanwhile  sent  his  best  paladin  to  a  cruel  death :  what  price 
would  he  not  pay  to  win  back  his  throne  ?  Then,  in  June 
1650,  he  embarked  at  Harslaerdyck.  On  the  23rd  of 
the  month,  outside  the  mouth  of  the  Spey,  he  swore  that, 
in  every  clause  and  syllable,  he  would  keep  the  Covenants. 
John  Livingston,  who  was  among  the  representatives  of  the 
Kirk,  heard,  indeed,  that  "  the  King  is  minded  to  speak  some 
words,  that  his  oath  should  not  import  any  infringeing  of  the 
laws  of  England."  But  he  was  at  once  answered  that  not 
a  single  modifying  expression  would  be  tolerated;  and  he 
"  performed  anything  that  could  have  been  requyred,  yet 
without  any  evidence  of  any  real  change  of  heart."  And  why 
did  men,  to  whom  the  fear  of  the  Lord  was  the  beginning  of 
wisdom,  countenance  the  hollow  mockery  and  an  imposture 
so  fateful  and  perilous  ?  Why  did  they,  as  Livingston  phrases 
it,  "take  the  plague  of  God  to  Scotland"?  If  Charles's 
honesty  was  gone,  theirs  for  the  moment  was  sacrificed  too. 

There  is  no  room  here  to  recount  the  crookednesses  which 
ensued.  At  the  bidding  of  his  monitors  he  confessed  his 
sorrow  for  his  father's  errors  and  his  mother's  idolatry.  His 
life  became  a  weariness,  so  continually  and  so  closely  he  was 
watched.  Perhaps,  in  heart,  he  rejoiced  as  much  as  Oliver 
did  over  the  rout  of  the  Covenanters  at  Duubar,  although  he 


22  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

declared,  in  sentences  veneered  with  piety,  that  "  the  stroake 
and  tryal  is  very  hard  to  be  borne."  Once  he  made  an  effort 
to  extricate  himself  from  his  bondage — the  futile  effort  which 
is  known  in  Scottish  history  as  "  the  Start."  We  can  scarcely 
wonder  that,  through  all  his  subsequent  life,  his  hostility 
against  Kirk  and  Covenant  was  of  the  most  unforgiving  sort. 
Then  came  the  Coronation  scene  at  Scone,  and  afterwards, 
for  eiglit  montlis,  he  liad  the  simulacrum  of  royalty;  until 
Worcester  fight  dissolved  the  thin  phantom,  and  again  Charles 
was  in  exile. 

The  lover  of  the  Covenanters  longs  with  his  whole  soul 
that  they  had  not  demeaned  themselves  to  traffic  with  the 
godless  prince.  Loyalty  prompted  them;  but  they  knew 
that  he  was  unworthy  of  their  loyalty.  He  gave  them  his 
solemn  and  reiterated  assurances  that  not  only  had  he  "  the 
honour  and  civil  liberties  of  the  land  to  defend,  but  religion, 
the  Gospel,  and  the  Covenant,  against  which  Hell  shall  not 
prevail";  but  they  felt  tliat  in  the  assurances  there  was  no 
single  grain  of  truth.  They  were  angry  with  Cromwell  and 
his  doings ;  but  their  anger  should  never  have  conducted  them 
to  this  heart-wounding  hypocrisy.  It  is  a  chapter  which  their 
friends  would  fain  erase  from  their  radiant  and  quickening 
annals.  For,  if  the  crimes  of  the  bad  are  certain  to  yield  a 
plentiful  harvest  of  evil,  the  crimes  of  the  good  are  unspeak- 
ably more  mischievous  and  mournful. 

The  retribution  came  quickly.  In  large  measure,  it  was 
because  of  these  dallyings  and  intrigues  with  Charles  that  the 
Covenanting  ranks  were  for  a  time  to  be  cleft  asunder  by  a 
melancholy  quarrel — the  quarrel  between  Eesolutioner  and 
Eemonstrant  or  Protester.  The  trouble  reached  its  height  in 
the  General  Assembly  of  1651,  held  at  St.  Andrews  and  Dundee. 
There  the  Eesolutioners  were  in  the  ascendant,  and  nothing 
would  content  them  but  the  deposition  of  their  three  most 
active  opponents — James  Guthrie  of  Stirling,  Patrick  Gillespie 
of  Glasgow,  and  James  Simpson  of  Airth.  If  the  I'resbyterian 
Church  had  gained  a  King,  "whose  word  no  man  relied  n," 
it    was  sendiu(^  adrift  some  of  its  most  valiant  sons.      The 


PROLOGUE  23 

exchange    tended   wholly   to    its    own   impoverishment    and 
loss. 

"  In  large  measure,"  the  strife  arose  out  of  the  entanglement 
with  "  the  chief  Malignant."     Yet  it  had  its  roots  further  back, 
and  a  momentary  retrospect  becomes  necessary.     In  the  closing 
hours  of  1647,  within  the  walls  of  Carisbrooke  Castle,  Charles 
First  had  been  closeted  with  certain  Scottish  noblemen,  and 
had  signed  with  them  the  bargain  which  history  styles  "  the 
Engagement."     It   promised,  on    the    King's   side,    that   the 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant  should  be  confirmed  by  Parlia- 
ment, and  that  Presbytery  should  be  established  in  the  country 
for   a   period   of   three  years,  at  the  end   of    which   term   a 
definite  settlement  of  the  religious  question  was  to  be  made. 
On  the  other  side,  there  were  stipulations  that  the  Covenant 
should  not  be  forced  upon  those  who  did  not  like  it,  and  that 
within  the  Eoyal  Household  the  Episcopal  forms  of  worship 
should  remain  unchallenged.     It  was  in  consequence  of  this 
bargain  that  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  whom,  as  Marquis,  we  saw 
contending  with  the  Glasgow  Assembly,  led  into  England  on 
his   master's   behalf   that   army   of   "raw   and    undisciplined 
troopers,"  on  which  Cromwell  inflicted  the  bitterest  chastise- 
ment  at   Preston.      But    the    Church    never    approved   the 
Engagement,  nor   did   the  stricter  of  the  Covenanting  peers, 
who,  after  Hamilton's  hapless  venture,  found  themselves  again 
at  the  helm  of  affairs.     So,  early  in  1649,  the  Act  of  Classes 
was  passed.     It  was  an  endeavour  to  bar  the  Canaanite  outside 
the  house  of  the  Lord.     It  declared  that  there  were  persons 
who  had  unfitted  themselves  for  occupying  places  of  trust  and 
power  —  four  classes  of   them,   of   whom  the   thoroughgoing 
Pioyalists   and    Episcopalians   were   one,   and   the   lukewarm 
Covenanters  who  had  promoted  the  Engagement  were  another. 
For  life,  for   ten  years,  for  five   years,  for   two   years,   these 
classes  were  to  be  excluded  from  office.     And  thus,  as  one  of 
the  Puritan  statesmen  who  defended  the  Act  put  the  matter  in 
a  vigorous  metaphor,  the  teeth  of  the  Malignants  were  broken. 
But  dragons'  teeth  have  a  troublesome  habit  of  reappearing, 
sometimes  in  aggravated  size  and  terribleness.     Scarcely  had 
the  Act  of  Classes  become  law,  when  Scotland  heard,  witli  a 


24  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

shudder,  that  the  King  had  gone  to  his  doom.  The  negotia- 
tions with  his  son  followed,  and  Cromwell's  invasion,  and  the 
catastrophe  of  Dunbar.  The  Scottish  Parliament  took  fright. 
Desirable  as  it  might  be  to  enlist  in  the  service  of  the  country 
those  alone  whose -shields,  like  that  of  Edmund  Spenser's  hero, 
were  formed  of  one  diamond,  "  perfect,  pure,  and  clean,"  there 
was  clamant  need  that  the  regiment  of  her  defenders  should 
be  largely  and  immediately  reinforced ;  and  new  helpers  could 
not  be  found  except  among  the  men  who  had  been  tainted  and 
disqualified  so  brief  a  time  before.  The  Parliament  determined 
to  welcome  these  men  back.  In  June  1651,  it  rescinded  the 
Act  of  Classes,  and  the  Assembly  of  the  Church,  meeting  in  the 
next  month,  ratified  the  decision  of  the  legislators.  It  framed 
its  "  Publick  Kesolutions,  for  bringing  in  the  Malignant  party 
first  to  the  army  and  then  to  the  judicatories."  There  were 
some  who  protested,  however,  clinging  fast  to  the  older  and 
austerer  method  of  fighting  God's  battles  with  none  but  God's 
soldiery.  They  had  short  shrift,  as  we  have  noted,  from  their 
brethren.  These  were  the  Protesters,  or  Remonstrants;  and 
those  who  carried  things  their  own  way  and  deposed  the 
dissentients  were  the  Eesolutioners. 

When  Charles,  the  roof  and  crown  of  Malignancy  itself,  had 
been  rehabilitated  and  enthroned,  it  was  inevitable  that  some 
such  relaxation  as  that  adopted  by  Parliament  and  Assembly 
should  come.  It  will  be  granted,  too,  that,  in  the  parlous  state 
of  the  nation's  fortunes,  the  Eesolutioners  had  cogent  reasons 
to  allege  in  their  defence ;  it  was  difficult  to  reject  good  fighters 
merely  because  they  abhorred  the  Covenant  or  held  fellowship 
with  men  who  did.  But  the  Protesters  could  claim  the  greater 
consistency.  The  cause  committed  to  them  was  sacred  even 
more  emphatically  than  political,  and  they  felt  that  its  lustre 
would  be  tarnished  if  they  intrusted  it  to  unworthy  hands : 
only  His  reproachless  servants  should  bear  the  vessels  of  the 
King  of  kings.  They  might  not  be  careful  enough  to  speak 
the  truth  in  love ;  Samuel  Eutherfurd  and  Patrick  Gillespie 
were  but  too  human  in  the  hotness  of  their  tempers ;  but  theirs 
was  the  better  part,  the  more  straightforward  policy,  the 
higher  road.     And  if  the  Assembly  condemned  them,  they  had 


PROLOGUE  25 

but  to  turn  to  their  congregations,  and  they  were  surrounded 
by  disciples  and  friends.  So  lamentable  the  breach  became 
that  the  Church  was  practically  rent  in  two ;  and  for  a  number 
of  years  the  Protester  had  communion  with  none  but  the 
Protester,  the  Kesolutioner  simply  with  his  fellow-Eesolutioner. 
Ephraim  distrusted  Judah,  and  Judah  vexed  Ephraim. 

The  divergence  revealed  itself  in  other  matters  than  the 
discussion  of  military  and  civic  appointments.  A  Kesolutioner 
— Eobert  Douglas,  or  Ptobert  Blair,  or  Kobert  Baillie,  or 
David  Dickson — preached  and  conducted  public  worship  in 
a  mode  distinguishable  from  that  favoured  by  some  in  the 
rival  party.  He  was  more  methodical  and  systematic,  colder 
and  statelier,  than  the  evangelic  and  enthusiastic  Protester. 
Baillie,  for  instance,  had  scant  patience  with  the  "  few  headie 
men  who  waste  our  Church."  Trained  in  the  orthodox  school 
of  Dutch  divinity,  having  spent  his  youth  in  doing  battle 
against  Arminians  and  Antinomians,  he  entertained  a  whole- 
some dread  of  all  novelties  in  pulpit  or  pew.  Speaking  of 
Andrew  Gray  of  Glasgow,  he  says :  "  He  has  the  new  guyse  of 
preaching,  which  Mr.  Hew  Binning  and  Mr.  Eobert  Leighton 
began,  contenming  the  ordinarie  way  of  exponing  and  dividing 
a  text,  of  raising  doctrines  and  uses ;  hot  runs  out  in  a  discourse 
on  some  common  head,  in  a  high,  romancing,  unscriptural  style, 
tickling  the  ear  for  the  present,  and  moving  the  afiections  in 
some,  hot  leaving,  as  he  confesses,  little  or  nought  to  the 
memorie  and  understanding."  Even  the  tones  of  voice  which, 
as  it  seemed  to  him,  the  Protester  assumed  as  evidence  and 
expression  of  his  devoutness,  offended  our  staid  and  custom- 
bound  divine.  "  The  man's  vehemencie  in  his  prayer,  a  strange 
kind  of  sighing,  the  like  whereof  I  had  never  heard,  as  a  python- 
ising  out  of  the  bellie  of  a  second  person,  made  me  amazed." 
Eobert  Baillie  himself,  learned,  good,  honourable,  never 
offended  against  the  proprieties,  nor  was  much  troubled  with 
"  vehemencie." 

Shall  we  take  an  illustration  of  the  varying  accents  of 
Kesolutioner  and  Eemonstrant  ?  Here  are  some  sentences 
from  The  Sum  of  Saving  Knowledge,  a  little  book  which  is 
no  ignoble  sample  of  the  more  precise  and  less  impassioned 


26  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

theology.  "Let  the  penitent  desiring  to  believe  reason,  thus: 
What  doth  suffice  to  convince  all  the  elect  may  suffice  to 
convince  me  also ;  but  what  the  Spirit  has  said  suffices  to 
convince  the  elect  world ;  therefore  what  the  Spirit  hath  said 
serveth  to  convince  me  thereof  also.  Whereupon,  let  the 
penitent  desiring  to  believe  take  with  him  words,  and  say 
heartily  to  the  Lord,  '  Seeing  Thou  sayest,  Seek  yc  My  face, 
my  soul  answereth  to  Thee,  Thy  face  will  I  seek.  I  have 
hearkened  unto  the  offer  of  an  everlasting  covenant  of  all 
saving  mercies  to  be  had  in  Christ,  and  I  do  heartily  embrace 
Thy  offer.  Lord,  let  it  be  a  bargain.'  Thus  may  a  man  be 
made  an  unfeigned  believer  in  Christ."  It  may  be  irrefragable  ; 
but  is  it  not  too  icily  regular,  too  statuesque  and  syllogistic  ? 
The  soul  in  its  agony  craves  something  simpler,  more  vital, 
fuller  of  the  strong  consolations  of  God.  But  now  let  us 
hearken  to  Hew  Binning,  the  Protester,  on  whose  "  new  guyse 
of  preaching "  Baillie  looked  with  a  frown.  "  He  that  is  in 
earnest  about  this  question,  Hovj  shall  I  he  saved  ?  I  think  he 
should  not  spend  the  time  in  reflecting  on  and  examination 
of  himself,  till  he  find  something  promising  in  himself,  but 
from  discovered  sin  and  misery  pass  straightway  over  to  the 
grace  and  mercy  of  Christ,  without  any  intervening  search  of 
something  in  himself  to  warrant  him  to  come.  There  should 
be  nothing  before  the  eye  of  the  soul  but  sin  and  misery  and 
absolute  necessity,  compared  with  superabounding  grace  and 
righteousness  in  Christ ;  and  thus  it  singly  devolves  itself 
over  upon  Christ,  and  receives  Him  as  offered  freely.  I  know 
it  is  not  possible  that  a  soul  can  receive  Christ,  till  there  be 
some  preparatory  convincing  work  of  the  law ;  but  I  hold  that 
to  look  to  any  such  preparation,  and  fetch  an  encouragement 
or  motive  therefrom  to  believe  in  Christ,  is  really  to  give  Him 
a  price  for  His  free  waters  and  wine.  It  is  to  mix  in  together 
Christ  and  the  law  in  the  point  of  our  acceptation."  Who  is 
not  conscious,  when  he  reads  the  words,  that  he  is  moving  in 
a  diviner  air  ?  The  sentiment  is  the  same  as  before.  But 
formerly  there  was  a  dissonance  in  uttering  it  which  grated 
on  the  ear,  and  almost  made  the  music  of  the  Gospel  liarsh. 
Now  the  speaker  feels   no   down-dragging   influences  in   his 


PROLOGUE  27 

Calvinism ;  he  does  not  measure  his  syllables  lest  he  should 
render  the  grace  of  God  too  large  and  too  accessible ;  lie  soars 
away  and  aloft,  like  the  lark, 

Up  in  the  glory,  climl)iug  and  ringing  ; 

or  like  the  angel  of  Bethlehem,  throbbing  with  uncontrollable 
gladness  as  he  publishes  his  message,  Behold,  I  bring  you  good 
tidings  of  great  Jog,  vjJdch  shall  he  to  all  people. 

There  is  a  final  picture  at  which  we  must  glance.  It  is 
the  picture  of  two  personalities  that  confront  each  other. 
Their  attitude  is  that  of  antagonism.  Their  tempers  are 
incompatible.  They  are  for  the  most  part  in  undisguised  and 
open  strife.  The  personalities  are  those  of  the  Covenanter 
and  Oliver  Cromwell.  "  The  late  Usurper " :  it  was  the 
Covenanter's  customary  name  for  the  great  God-fearing 
Enghshman,  after  that  September  day  in  1658,  when,  trusting 
in  the  promises  which  are  Yea  and  Amen  in  Christ  Jesus,  the 
Lord  Protector  passed  from  the  world  which  he  had  vastly 
enriched. 

We  need  not  wonder  at  the  alienation,  however  we  must 
lament  its  vigour  and  sharpness.  "  The  English  Government 
of  Scotland,"  says  Dr.  Samuel  Gardiner,  "  was  a  good  example 
of  the  government  which  fails,  in  spite  of  its  excellent 
intentions  and  excellent  practice,  simply  because  it  pays  no 
heed  to  the  spirit  of  nationality."  Cromwell  stood  in  many 
respects  at  an  opposite  pole  of  thinking  from  the  Scots.  He 
was  a  soldier ;  and  they  began  to  dread  that  tremendous 
engine  of  conquest,  the  Army  of  the  Parliament,  which  his 
genius  had  designed  and  compacted,  and  which  menaced  their 
independence  more  overwhelmingly  than  Charles  had  ever 
been  able  to  do.  He  was  a  statesman ;  but  he  felt  none  of 
their  stubborn  loyalty  towards  a  King,  who  had  perversely 
thrown  away  his  right  to  rule ;  and  they  could  never  forgive 
the  regicide,  even  if  they  saw  clearly  enough  the  ineradicable 
faults  of  the  prince  whom  he  helped  to  lead  to  the  block.  He 
was  a  man  of  religion ;  but  they  differed  radically  from  him. 
Oliver  signed  the  Solemn  League,  it  is  true ;  but  in  his  eyes 


28  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  bond  was  not  the  sacred  and  awful  symbol  which  it  was 
to  Presbyterian  Scotsmen.  He  was  an  Independent ;  he  was 
in  favour  of  a  far  wider  catholicity  and  toleration  than  they 
could  abide ;  he  permitted  the  growth  in  liis  regiments,  and  by 
and  by  in  the  Commonwealth,  of  all  manner  of  Sectaries.  It 
was  scaTcely  surprising  that  they  scowled  on  him,  and  fought 
against  him,  and  counted  him  an  enemy  rather  than  a  friend. 
When  we  recall  Dunbar  drove,  and  the  subsequent  marches 
and  counter-marches  of  the  Ironsides  through  a  subjugated 
country ;  the  forcible  dismissal,  too,  of  the  General  Assembly 
of  1653,  vexed  and  noisy  with  the  strife  of  tongues,  and  the 
refusal  in  succeeding  years  to  sanction  the  meeting  of  the 
supreme  court  of  the  Church :  we  comprehend  why  Scotland 
disliked  the  Puritan  captain.  Her  distrust  is  more  intelligible 
than  that  of  some  others.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  the 
English  peasant  of  our  day,  although  his  ancestors  were 
against  the  King,  and  helped  in  the  execution  of  Cromwell's 
stern  policy,  abhors  "  Old  Noll "  as  if  he  were  an  ogre. 
"  Where  traces  of  desecration  are  visible  in  a  church, 
where  a  shattered  wall  is  all  that  remains  of  a  stately 
home  hallowed  by  the  presence  of  Gloriana,  where  an  ancient 
door  shows  the  pattern  of  bullet-marks,"  Hodge  will  have  it 
that  the  mischief  is  due  to  the  commander  and  ruler  who 
raised  England  to  the  first  rank  among  the  nations  of  Europe. 
The  Scot  of  the  seventeenth  century,  although  his  perse- 
vering opposition  cannot  be  justified,  had  more  of  reason  on 
his  side. 

There  were  exceptions,  no  doubt.  In  the  West,  Colonel 
Strachan  and  a  little  company  of  his  followers  joined  Oliver. 
Patrick  Gillespie  sometimes  prayed  publicly  for  the  Protector. 
Dumbartonshire  and  Wigtown  accepted  the  Tender  of  Union 
with  England  with  a  degree  of  enthusiasm,  as  being  "  the 
excellent  blessing  of  God,  who  by  a  long-continued  series  of 
providences  seems  to  hold  out  this  to  be  His  great  design  for 
the  common  good  of  the  people  of  this  island."  After  the 
Union,  belated  and  yet  premature,  was  proclaimed  at  the 
Mercat  Cross  of  Edinburgh  in  the  Maytime  of  1654, 
and   after  General  Monck   had   been   feasted   at  a   banquet 


PROLOGUE  29 

which  was  "sex  dayis  in  preparing,  qnhairat  the  bailleis 
did  stand  and  serve  the  haill  time,"  a  few  Scotsmen  sat  in 
Cromwell's  Parliaments.  But  the  coimtry  as  a  whole  was 
unfriendly,  and  the  Church,  hating  that  motley  troop  of 
sects  she  saw  overspreading  England,  was  more  critical  still. 
"As  for  the  Kirkmen  and  their  vassals,"  we  read  in  a 
Newsletter  sent  from  Edinburgh  on  the  27th  of  December 
1651,  "they  retain  their  old  rugged  Obstinacie  and  currish 
behaviour," 

Yet  the  strong  and  stable  discipline  of  Cromwell  was  an 
untold  blessing  to  these  censorious  Kirkmen.  The  Scotland 
of  the  years  of  the  Commonwealth  had  its  grave  moral 
blemishes.  There  were  prominent  and  repulsive  national 
sins,  then  as  now.  There  was  no  little  superstition,  as  we 
may  learn  from  the  hideous  story  of  how  the  witches  were 
persecuted  and  done  to  death.  But,  side  by  side  with  the 
painfuller  features  of  the  period,  there  were  the  blossom  and 
the  fruitage  of  genuine  religion.  "  Then,"  writes  good  James 
Kirkton,  "  was  Scotland  a  heap  of  wheat  set  about  with  lilies, 
uniform,  or  a  palace  of  silver  beautifully  proportioned;  and 
this  seems  to  me  to  have  been  Scotland's  high  noon."  On  a 
later  page,  he  expands  and  explains  his  panegyric  of  the  golden 
season,  round  which  the  shades  of  the  prison-house  closed 
all  too  early.  "At  the  King's  return  every  paroche  hade  a 
minister,  every  village  hade  a  school,  every  family  almost 
hade  a  Bible,  yea,  in  most  of  the  countrey,  all  the  children  of 
age  could  read  the  Scriptures.  Every  minister  was  obliedged 
to  preach  thrice  a  week,  to  lecture  and  catechise  once,  besides 
other  private  duties  wherein  they  abounded,  according  to 
their  proportion  of  faithfulness  and  abilities.  None  of  them 
might  be  scandalous  in  their  conversation,  or  negligent  in 
their  office,  so  long  as  a  presbytrie  stood  ;  and  among  them 
were  many  holy  in  conversation  and  eminent  in  gifts.  In 
many  places  the  Spirit  seemed  to  be  powred  out  with  the 
Word,  both  by  the  multitude  of  sincere  converts,  and  also  by 
the  common  work  of  reformation  upon  many  who  never  came 
the  length  of  a  Communion ;  there  were  no  fewer  than  sixty 
aged  people,  men  and  women,  who  went  to  school,  that  even 


30  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

then  they  miglit  be  able  to  read  the  Scriptures  with  their 
own  eyes.  I  have  lived  many  years  in  a  paroch  where  I 
have  never  heard  ane  oath,  and  you  might  have  ridde 
many  miles  before  you  had  heard  any.  Also  you  could  not 
for  a  great  part  of  the  countrey  have  lodged  in  a  family 
where  the  Lord  was  not  worshipped  by  reading,  singing, 
and  publick  prayer.  No  body  complained  more  of  our  church 
government  than  our  taverners,  whose  ordinarie  lamentation 
was,  their  trade  was  broke,  people  were  become  so  sober." 
And  the  man  who,  more  than  any  other,  helped  to 
secure  for  the  land  this  Sabbatism  of  restful  godliness 
was  misunderstood,  resisted,  denounced.  It  is  one  of  the 
pathetic  contradictions  of  which  history  provides  many  an 
example. 


CHAPTER  I.   ' 

HOW  THE  KING  CAME  HOME. 

ENGLAND  and  Scotland  forgot  themselves  in  an  ecstasy  of 
sheer  delight,  when  Charles  the  Second,  now  thirty  years 
of  age,  landed  at  Dover,  and  made  his  progress  to  Whitehall. 
There  had  been  tiresome  negotiations  beforehand;  but  they 
might  have  been  forborne,  for  the  event  proved  that  they 
were  needless.  "  It  is  my  own  fault,"  the  King  laughed,  "  that 
I  did  not  come  back  sooner."  From  London  Bridge  to  his 
palace  gates  the  procession  advanced  through  what  Evelyn 
calls  "a  lane  of  happy  faces."  Charles  saw  little  else  than 
the  waving  of  scarfs  and  the  flashing  of  rapiers,  and,  behind 
these,  the  laughter  and  tears  of  his  subjects :  "  the  ways  strewn 
all  with  flowers,  bells  ringing,  steeples  hung  with  tapestries, 
fountains  running  with  wine,  trumpets,  music,  and  myriads  of 
people  flocking;  and  two  hundred  thousand  horse  and  foot 
brandishing  their  swords,  and  shouting  with  inexpressible  joy." 
In  such  a  carnival  of  gaiety,  on  this  29th  of  May  1660,  birth- 
day as  well  as  Restoration  day,  the  monarch,  long  discrowned, 
seated  himself  again  in  the  home  of  his  fathers. 

Can  we  catch  the  likeness  of  the  man  who  was  welcomed 
so  deliriously  ? 

His  outward  features  were  not  attractive.  "  Until  near 
twenty,"  one  of  his  friends  says,  "  the  figure  of  his  face  was 
very  lovely ;  but  he  is  since  grown  leaner."  And  not  leaner 
merely  but  grimmer,  sombre  and  forbidding.  Merry :  that  is 
the  adjective  which  is  the  Second  Charles's  property ;  but  in 
his  gaunt  visage  there  was  "  neither  joy  nor  love  nor  light." 
He  avowed  it  himself.  "  But  I'm  the  ugly  fellow  ! "  he  sighed, 
as  he  stood  before  his  portrait.     His  skin  was  as  brown  as  if 


32  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

he  had  been  born  under  a  tropical  sun.  Bishop  Burnet,  who, 
to  be  sure,  had  no  fondness  for  him,  tells  us  that  he  resembled 
the  Emperor  Tiberius,  tristissimus  ut  constat  hominum.  It  is 
conceivable  that  the  Bishop  intended  his  readers  to  carry  the 
comparison  further,  into  more  essential  qualities  of  mind  and 
soul.     And  the  exercise  would  not  be  difficult  or  recondite. 

The  King,  has  been  portrayed  as  a  compendium  of  all  the 
vices.  The  verdict  is  pitiless;  but  it  cannot  be  deemed  too 
harsh.  Yet  there  were  broken  fragments  of  a  better  nature 
to  be  seen  here  and  there,  in  the  corners  of  his  strange  per- 
sonality—  a  nature  which  never  had  much  opportunity  of 
asserting  itself,  and  which  was  smothered  more  and  more 
under  its  owner's  incorrigible  idlenesses  and  sins. 

It  is  to  his  credit  that  he  was  a  lover  of  the  open  air, 
physically  alert  and  athletic.  In  Sir  Kobert  Moray's  charm- 
ing letters  to  Lauderdale,  we  get  many  peeps  at  the  prince 
when  he  was  in  the  prime  of  his  vigour.  He  is  constantly  in 
the  saddle.  One  day  he  rides  fourteen  miles  to  dinner  with 
Lord  Herbert.  On  another  day  he  covers  no  less  than  sixty 
miles,  rising  with  the  summer  dawn,  and  returning  to  transact 
business  at  midnight.  Or  again,  when  the  statesman  wants  to 
discuss  some  question  of  politics,  he  is  out  with  the  hounds, 
and  nobody  is  sure  when  he  will  return.  Claverhouse,  too,  had 
the  same  experience  twenty  years  later.  When  he  wished  to 
escape  to  his  harrying  of  the  Covenanters  in  the  Western  shires, 
his  dilatory  master  detained  him.  "  I  walked  nine  miles  this 
morning  with  the  Khig,"  he  informed  a  correspondent  in  1683. 
"  The  heaven  above,"  and  "  the  road  below,"  and  "  the  bed  in 
the  bush  with  stars  to  see  " — Charles  could  have  appreciated 
our  modern  wanderer's  satisfaction  with  these  wholesome  joys. 
His  friends  declared  that  he  would  have  preferred  angling 
and  a  life  in  the  country  to  all  the  punctilios  of  Whitehall. 
Scottisli  history  would  have  been  a  calmer  and  sweeter  record 
if  the  preference  had  been  granted. 

He  was  an  admirable  talker,  brimful  of  repartee  and 
shrewdness  and  sparkle.  A  hundred  instances  of  his  cleverness 
have  been  commemorated,  and  they  show  what  a  nimble 
intellect  played  behind  the  uninviting  face.     "  Was  it  not  a 


OLIVER  CROMWELL. 
From  the  Paintin/j  by  Samuel  Cooper,  in  Sidney  Sussex  College,  Cainbridge. 


HOW  THE  KING  CAME  HOME  33 

pretty  pass,"  asks  Miss  Guiney  in  that  tour  deforce  of  adroitest 
advocacy,  An  Inquirendo  into  the  Wit  and  Other  Good  Parts  of 
His  Late  Majesty  King  Charles  the  Second — "  was  it  not  a  pretty 
pass,  between  the  monarch  and  his  impregnable  Quaker  who 
wanted  a  charter  ?  Penn  came  to  his  first  audience  with  his 
hat,  on  the  principle  of  unconvention  and  equality,  firmly 
fixed  upon  his  brows.  Presently  the  King,  having  moved 
apart  from  his  attendants,  in  his  gleaming  dress,  slowly  and 
ceremoniously  bared  his  head.  'Friend  Charles,  why  hast 
taken  oft'  thy  hat  ? '  '  Because  it  has  so  long  been  the  custom 
here,'  said  the  other,  with  that  peculiar  lenient  smile  of  his, 
'  for  but  one  person  to  remain  covered  at  a  time.' "  His  good 
humour  never  deserted  him.  It  taught  him  how  to  adapt  his 
conversation  to  every  circle.  He  could  be  "  a  gracious  youth  " 
to  Eobert  Baillie,  and  more  vulgar  than  the  most  unblushino- 
with  courtiers  like  the  Earl  of  Eochester.  Among  the  bishops 
he  was  a  scholar,  and  among  the  sportsmen  at  Newmarket  he 
had  no  thought  nor  speech  for  anything  but  the  excitements 
of  the  race.  "Such  abihty  and  understanding  has  Charles 
Stuart,"  one  of  his  intimates  said  to  him  in  a  jest  as  pointed  as 
it  was  kind,  "  that  I  do  long  to  see  him  employed  as  King  of 
England." 

There  could  not  be  a  doubt  of  the  ability.  People  remarked 
what  a  competent  judge  of  men  he  was;  he  read  the  place- 
hunters  who  thronged  his  corridors  with  unerring  skill,  and  he 
had  an  insight  as  penetrating  into  the  position  of  the  political 
factions.  If  he  could  not  claim  book-learning,  he  honoured  it 
in  others,  being  interested  especially  in  science.  It  was  he 
who  founded  the  Eoyal  Society,  and  who  estabhshed  the 
Observatory  at  Greenwich.  To  moral  excellence  as  well  as  to 
intellectual  gifts  he  threw  approving  glances  and  hearty  words  ; 
he  saw  and  commended  the  better  way,  while  he  followed  the 
worse.  Thus  he  promoted  Ken,  the  good  Dean  of  Winchester, 
to  the  bishopric  of  Bath  and  Wells,  for  no  other  reason  than 
that  the  brave  man  had  once  reproved  him  for  the  gross 
irregularities  of  his  conduct.  He  had  his  fleeting  visions  of 
righteousness  and  transient  impulses  towards  the  higher  life. 
It  is  wholly  pleasant,  too,  to  see  the  constancy  of  his  love  for 
3 


34  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

his  child-sister,  Henrietta  of  Orleans.  "  To  my  deare  deare 
Sister  "  he  wrote  letters  of  beautiful  affection.  "  Pour  I'avenir, 
je  vous  prie,  ne  me  traitez  pas  avec  tant  de  ceremonie,  en  me 
donnant  tant  de  'majestes,'  car  je  ne  veux  pas  qu'il  y  ait  autre 
chose  entre  nous  deux,  qu'  amitie."  And  nothing  but  unbreak- 
able friendship  there  was  until  the  hour  of  her  too  early 
death. 

But,  despite  his  "  great  talents  and  great  chances  and,  in 
a  sense,  great  qualities,"  Charles  was  a  bad  ruler  and  a 
bad  man.  In  everything  except  physical  exercise,  he  was 
irrecoverably  lazy.  The  stinging  satire,  which  Andrew 
Marvell  put  into  his  mouth,  depicted  His  Majesty's  aims 
with  too  much  accuracy — 

I'll  have  a  fine  pond,  with  a  pretty  decoy, 
Where  many  strange  fowl  shall  feed  and  enjoy, 
And  still  in  their  language  quack,   Vive  U  roy ! 

And,  under  the  easy  temper,  there  was  a  mind  governed  by 
selfishness.  The  King  appears  to  have  been  incapable  of 
steadfast  comradeship.  He  wearied  of  that  most  devoted 
cavalier,  Edward  Hyde,  Lord  Clarendon  ;  and  the  man  to  whom 
he  owed  his  throne  left  the  court  in  disgrace.  It  was  a 
hateful  ingratitude ;  and  the  royal  libertinism  was  even  worse. 
Mistress  was  added  to  mistress,  and  each  won  the  loftiest  rank 
for  her  children ;  centuries  instead  of  months  separated 
Charles's  palace  from  Oliver's.  These  astute  temptresses 
grew  rich  on  the  nation's  money,  and  he  never  sought  to  put 
boundaries  to  their  cupidity.  He  starved  the  Navy,  to  find 
dresses  and  jewels  for  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine  and  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  Miss  Nell  Gwyn.  In  truth,  he 
had  no  vestige  of  pride  in  the  good  name  of  his  country.  By 
a  humiliating  treaty,  which  he  dared  not  divulge  except  to  one 
or  two,  he  became  the  paid  servant  of  Louis  of  France.  He 
made  war  on  Holland,  and  plunged  Britain  into  a  succession  of 
defeats  such  as  she  had  never  before  experienced.  But  the 
national  shame  brought  no  shadow  of  distress  or  penitence 
over  his  careless  heart.  He  spent  a  long  evening  hunting 
moths  with  his  associates,  while  the  guns  of  the  Dutch  were 


HOW  THE  KING  CAME  HOME 


35 


thundering  off  Chatham.  In  warp  and  in  woof  his  character 
was  bohemian.  "  He  minded  nothing  but  pleasures,"  Samuel 
Pepys  confesses  with  a  sigh. 

The  secret  was  that  he  had  no  religion.  His  father, 
obstinate  and  formal  as  he  showed  himself,  was  devout ;  but 
the  son  was  a  stranger  to  the  life  of  the  soul.  He  "  floated 
upon  that  new  tide  of  politeness "  which  surged  in  with  the 
Restoration,  Mr.  G.  K.  Chesterton  pleads  in  some  apologetic 
paradoxes ;  he  was  "  perfect  in  little  things  " ;  he  "  could  not 
keep  the  Ten  Commandments,  but  he  kept  the  ten  thousand 
commandments."  But  politeness  is  a  poor  substitute  for  the 
grace  of  God,  and  courtesy  has  sometimes  been  divorced  from 
goodness.  At  the  first  glance  it  seems  curious  that,  under  the 
sway  of  a  man  without  vital  faith,  there  should  be  much 
persecution.  But  the  King  had  counsellors  whose  Ancdi- 
canism  was  of  a  determined  sort ;  and  he  himself,  deciding  all 
spiritual  problems  by  the  canons  of  etiquette,  was  accustomed 
to  protest  that  "  Presbytery  was  no  religion  for  a  gentleman." 
For  a  long  while,  too,  he  had  cherished  his  personal  grudge 
against  the  Church  of  his  Scottish  subjects ;  and,  that  he 
might  have  his  revenge  on  those  who  had  held  him  in 
pupillage  ten  years  before,  he  was  likely  to  deal  rudely  with 
the  Covenanters.  His  was  the  scourge  not  of  the  bigot  but  of 
the  sceptic ;  he  cared  not  a  farthing  himself  "  what  the  sects 
might  brawl " ;  but  the  freethinker's  lash  can  be  as  merciless 
as  the  inquisitor's.  Negatives  describe  him  best;  nothing 
pure,  nothing  serious,  nothing  worthy,  nothing  divine,  is  to 
be  discovered  in  Charles  the  Second.  They  are  scathing 
sentences  with  which  Dr.  Osmund  Airy  concludes  his  great 
monograph:  "His  guide  was  not  duty;  it  was  not  even 
ambition :  Init  his  guide  was  self ;  it  was  ease,  and  amusement, 
and  lust.  The  cup  of  pleasure  was  filled  deep  for  him,  and 
he  grasped  it  with  both  hands.  But  pleasure  is  not  happiness. 
There  is  no  happiness  for  him  who  lives  and  dies  without 
beliefs,  without  enthusiasms,  and  without  love." 

Such  was  the  King,  and  he  brought  with  him  a  new  era. 
It  was  livelier,  more  jocund,  more  boisterous,  than  the  old. 
It  had  music  in  it,  and  dancing,  and  play-going,  and  all  the 


36  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

hurry  and  hilarity  of  Vanity  Fair.  But  the  massiveneas,  the 
spiritual  magnificence,  the  militant  saintliness  of  Cromwell's 
time  had  disappeared.  Puritanism  was  not  dead ;  but  it 
walked  in  the  shadow  and  spoke  in  whispers.  It  worked  on 
as  an  .unobtrusive  leaven;  it  did  not  ring  out  its  doctrines 
and  commandments  any  more.  The  men  who  had  revolted 
against  the  Spartan  regimen  of  the  Ironsides  had  their 
summer  of  opportunity.  The  men  who  had  worn  a  mask 
of  gravity  threw  off  the  troublesome  disguise,  and  decked 
themselves  in  the  rainbow  colours  they  loved.  Eevelry  and 
ribaldry  ;  drinking  and  dicing ;  intrigue  and  adventure ;  those 
sins  of  the  flesh  and  the  spirit  which,  in  Stephen  Phillips's 
phrase,  are  "  agony  shot  through  with  bliss  " — these  filled  their 
days  and  nights.  To  one  famous  survivor  of  the  Protectorate, 
sitting  in  solitude  and  blindness,  the  England  of  Charles  was 
no  longer  a  puissant  nation  rousing  herself  from  sleep  and 
shaking  her  invincible  locks,  but  a  province  of  Belial,  than 
whom  a  spirit  more  lewd  fell  not  from  heaven. 

In  courts  and  palaces  he  also  reigns, 
And  in  luxurious  cities,  where  the  noise 
Of  riot  ascends  above  their  loftiest  towers, 
And  injury  and  outrage  ;  and,  when  night 
Darkens  the  streets,  then  wander  forth  the  sons 
Of  Belial,  flown  with  insolence  and  wine. 

Yet  the  mass  of  the  English  people  was  probably  untainted 
by  all  the  brilliancy  and  irreligion.  If  the  ruling  and 
fashionable  classes  were  corrupt,  the  bulk  of  the  citizens  in 
the  towns,  and  the  farmers  and  cottagers  in  the  country, 
retained  sobriety  and  sense.  This  was  even  more  emphatically 
true  of  Scotland.  It  clung  to  its  Presbyterianism.  The 
population  of  the  Lowland  counties  was  unhurt  by  the  lax 
moralities  of  the  leaders  in  society  and  legislature  and  camp. 
The  plodding  and  insistent  Scot  stood  like  a  rock,  and  refused 
to  modify  his  convictions.  He  heard  of  the  wild  doings  in  the 
South ;  he  saw  them  enacted,  on  a  smaller  scale,  in  Holyrood 
House  and  the  High  Street  of  Edinbm-gh  ;  there,  a  fortnight 
before  his  entry  into  London,  Charles  had  been  proclaimed 
"  with  all  solempnities  requisite,  by  ringing  of  bellis,  roriug  of 


HOW  THE  KING  CAME  HOME  37 

cannounes,  touking  of  drumes,  dancing  about  the  fyres,  and 
using  all  uther  takins  of  joy  for  the  advancement  and 
preference  of  their  native  King,"  But  the  finery,  the 
extravagance,  the  hard  drinking,  the  iridescent  vice,  only 
stirred  the  Scot,  ninety -nine  times  out  of  the  hundred, 
into  sorrow  of  soul.  They  failed  to  capture  him  by  their 
enchantments. 

None  the  less,  he  was  a  zealot  in  loyalty.  Occasionally 
he  gave  mental  harbourage  to  fantastic  legends,  which  told 
how  the  very  plants  and  animals  exulted  along  with  him. 
On  the  citadel  of  Perth  the  arms  of  the  Commonwealth  had 
been  carved  ;  but,  when  the  King  returned,  a  thistle,  the 
proud  and  rugged  emblem  of  the  North,  grew  from  the  wall 
and  hid  the  alien  insignia.  Still  more  marvellous  is  that 
history  of  the  leal  swans  of  Linlithgow,  which  may  be  read  in 
the  Mercurius  Calcdonius  of  Friday,  January  25th,  1661.  "At 
the  town  of  Linlithgow  His  Majesty  hath  a  palace  upon  the 
skirt  of  a  most  beautiful  lake ;  and  this  same  lake  hath  been 
ever  famous  for  the  number  of  swans  that  frequented  it.  But 
when  this  Kingdom,  as  England,  was  oppressed  with  usurpers, 
they  put  a  garrison  in  this  palace  of  His  Majesty's,  which  no 
sooner  done  but  these  excellent  creatures,  scorning  to  live  in 
the  same  air  with  the  contemners  of  His  Majesty,  they  all  of 
them  abandoned  the  lake,  and  were  never  seen  these  ten  years, 
till  the  1st  of  January  last.  When,  just  about  the  same  time 
of  the  day  that  His  Majesty's  Commissioner  entered  the 
Parliament  House  and  sat  in  the  chair  of  state,  did  a  squadron 
of  the  royal  birds  alight  in  the  lake  ;  and,  by  their  extra- 
ordinary motions  and  conceity  interweavings,  the  country 
people  fancied  them  revelling  at  a  country  dance,  for  joy  of  our 
glorious  Piestoration."  When  thistles  and  swans  were  thus 
aggressively  Carolean,  men  and  women  would  have  scorned  to 
lag  behind. 

Those  were  tales,  no  doubt,  born  in  the  breasts  of  the 
Malignants.  But  sober  Presbyterians  were  as  frank  in  their 
welcome.  Here  and  there,  among  the  Protesters,  some  might 
be  in  sore  perplexity  about  Charles  Stuart;  since  1650,  they 
could  not  credit  him  with  virtue  or  principle  or  grace.     But 


38  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

these,  too,  deep  as  their  disappointment  was  with  the  man, 
were  prepared  to  obey  the  monarch.  And  most  of  their 
brethren  were  mifeignedly  cordial.  In  the  last  weeks  of  1659, 
before  he  commenced  his  great  march  on  London — the  march 
which  was  the  beginning  of  the  Restoration — General  Monck 
had  summoned  the  Scottish  shires  and  burghs  to  send  their 
delegates  to  confer  with  him  in  Edinburgh.  He  acquainted 
them  with  his  plans.  He  was  going  South,  he  said,  "  to  assert 
and  maintaine  the  liberty  and  being  of  Parhaments,  our 
antient  constitution,  and  the  freedome  and  rights  of  the 
people  of  these  nations  from  arbitrary  and  tyrannicall  usurpa- 
tions upon  their  consciences,  persons,  and  estates ;  and  for  a 
godly  ministry."  Nothing  was  avowed  in  the  diplomatic 
speech  about  bringing  back  the  King.  But  his  listeners 
understood  how  the  tides  of  sentiment  were  running;  and 
they  bade  Monck  God-speed,  expressing  themselves  "well 
satisfied  with  his  Lordshipp's  engagement."  Their  attitude 
was  typical.  Scotland,  it  has  been  explained,  had  chafed 
under  the  domination  of  Cromwell:  it  was  anti-national;  it 
was  military ;  it  was  sectarian.  Many  a  wistful  thought 
she  had  cast  over  the  narrow  seas  to  the  banished  prince. 
Next  to  her  religion,  she  loved  the  house  of  Stuart;  just 
as  the  Vendeans  of  the  next  century  fought  first  for 
their  faith  and  then  for  the  white  flag  of  their  sovereign. 
In  1660,  Charles  had  no  subjects  more  firmly  rooted  in 
their  fealty  than  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Kirk.  It 
was  his  own  fatuity  which  transformed  numbers  of  them 
into  foes. 

Too  quickly  the  fatuity  was  revealed.  As  in  England  so 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Tweed,  the  worst  men  came  to  the 
front  with  the  advent  of  the  King — men  who  always  had  been 
hostile  to  Presbytery,  or  who  had  hitherto  pretended  an 
acquiescence  which  they  did  not  feel,  or  who,  although  they 
were  children  of  Covenanters,  were  fired  by  none  of  their 
fathers'  ideals.  Under  their  misrule  all  manner  of  contumely 
was  to  be  heaped  on  beliefs  which  were  dearer  than  life  to 
multitudes  in  the  nation.  Was  it  astonishing  that,  in  such 
circumstances,  the  cords  which  linked  the   people   with   the 


HOW  THE  KING  CAME  HOME  39 

monarch  were  loosened  and,  frequently,  were  snapped  out- 
right ?  No  other  issue  was  possible.  When  a  ruler  derides 
and  wounds  those  aspirations  which  are  most  prized  by 
his  subjects,  the  divinity  that  hedges  him  round  soon  fades 
away. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE  DEUNKEN  PARLIAMENT. 

AT  the  Eestoration  Scotland  continued  essentially  Presby- 
terian. Why,  it  may  be  asked,  was  Presbyterianism 
practically  so  helpless  from  the  moment  that  Charles  took  the 
management  of  affairs  ?  The  rulers  he  chose  for  his  northern 
dominion,  rulers  with  all  his  own  dislike  of  religion,  mounted 
to  power  with  scarcely  so  much  as  a  protest  on  the  part  of  the 
people.  It  seems  singular  that  the  transition  should  be  made 
so  smoothly.  Hitherto  Presbytery  had  been  queenly  and  force- 
ful. Her  sceptre  had  swayed  rich  and  poor,  merchant  and 
soldier,  old  and  young.  She  had  moulded  creed  and  conduct. 
She  had  given  to  the  citizens  the  priceless  boon  of  good 
education.  She  had  fought  successfully  against  the  encroach- 
ments of  royalty.  She  had  schooled  the  unruly  nobles  into 
apparent  decorousness.  She  had  leavened  the  rank  and  file 
of  the  nation  with  the  truths  she  taught  and  the  enthusiasms 
she  inspired.  Yet  the  diadem  passed  from  her,  as  it  were  in  a 
night.  In  1660  Charles  did  what  he  pleased  with  the  Church 
of  Scotland ;  and  the  old  remonstrances  and  defiances,  if  they 
were  heard,  were  but  feeble  and  futile. 

But  there  were  reasons  for  an  impotence  so  remarkable. 

One  of  them,  probably  the  most  operative,  was  that  the 
Church  was  no  longer  a  unity.  Mournful  divisions  played 
havoc  with  her  strength.  To  Eesolutioner  and  Protester  the 
cardinal  verities  were  the  same,  and  there  was  comparatively 
little  to  drive  them  into  antagonism.  But  they  were  too  apt 
to  concentrate  their  debates  and  energies  on  their  disagree- 
ments and  not  on  their  concords.  The  Eesolutioner  regarded 
his  neighbour  as   a   precisian ;  the   Protester  saw  in  his  co- 


CHARLES   II. 
After  the  Portrait  by  Sir  Peter  Lely. 


THE  DRUNKEN  PARLIAMENT  41 

religionist  a  latitudinarian  who  might  join  hands  with  the 
enemy.  Here  was  an  "infatuating  and  ruining  distemper," 
which  intruded  into  Synod  and  Presbytery  and  Kirk-Session  ; 
and  the  very  homes  were  pre-eminently  fortunate  which  were 
not  embittered  by  its  poison. 

It  must  be  granted,  also,  that  the  Covenanters  had  failed 
to  gain  the  affection  of  numbers  of  the  men  of  rank  and  title. 
They  had  their  "  princes  of  the  chariot " ;  but  the  larger  pro- 
portion of  their  adherents  came  from  the  middle  class  and 
from  the  peasantry.  Many  of  the  nobles  were  hostile.  Earls 
and  barons  and  knights,  with  lives  which  were  only  too 
ungoverned  and  rough,  with  private  sins  that  they  wished  to 
keep  undisturbed,  resented  the  faithfulness  of  the  Church's 
rebukes  and  the  supervision  she  tried  to  exercise  over  their 
households  and  manners.  During  her  halcyon  days  they 
yielded  an  outward  submission ;  but,  with  the  King's  star  in 
the  ascendant,  they  could  discard  their  pretended  meekness 
and  could  flout  their  instructor. 

There  was  a  third  source  from  which  trouble  flowed  to  tlie 
Kirk.  It  was  the  desperate  poverty  of  the  ruling  families  in 
the  country.  In  1654,  Eobert  Baillie  writes  with  pitiful 
emphasis  of  "  our  wracked  Nobilitie."  "  Dukes  Hamilton,  the 
one  execute,  the  other  slaine,  their  state  forfault " ;  "  Huntlie 
— there  is  more  debt  on  the  House  nor  the  land  can  pay  " ; 
"  Dowglass  and  his  sonne  Angus  are  quyet  men,  of  no  respect "  ; 
"  Marschell,  Kothes,  Eglinton  and  his  three  sonnes,  Craufurd, 
Lauderdaill,  and  others,  prisoners  in  England,  and  their  lands 
sequestrate  or  gifted  to  English  sojours " ;  "  Balmerinoch 
suddenly  dead,  and  his  sonne  for  publict  debt  keeps  not  the 
causey " : — thus,  from  one  depressing  item  to  another,  the 
black  catalogue  moves  on.  But  the  Eestoration  brought 
to  these  impoverished  lords  the  chance  of  escape  from  their 
bankruptcy.  It  offered  them  forfeited  estates  and  places  of 
consequence.  We  may  be  sorry,  but  we  cannot  be  surprised, 
that  some  of  them  were  quick  to  accept  the  glittering  bribe. 
For  a  handful  of  silver,  silver  very  urgently  needed,  they 
abandoned  a  Church  for  which  they  had  never  entertained 
profound  regard. 


42  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

So  it  came  about  that  Presbytery,  whose  trumpet  had 
blown  such  far-sounding  blasts,  triumphant  and  admonitory, 
was  all  but  silent  at  the  crisis  when  her  adversaries  prevailed. 
Their  victory  was  indisputable.  For  a  few  months  in  the 
autumn  of  1660,  Charles  ruled  Scotland  through  the  old 
Committee  of  Estates.  But,  on  the  New  Year's  Day  of  1661, 
a  Scottish  Parliament  met  in  Edinburgh.  Nine  years  had 
passed  since  a  similar  meeting ;  and  the  men  who  assembled  at 
the  King's  call  were  vastly  different  from  their  predecessors. 
They  had  been  carefully  selected,  so  that  obnoxious  members 
might  be  excluded ;  the  House  could  be  trusted  to  prove  itself 
a  pliant  instrument.  Before  this  fateful  Parliament  rose,  on 
the  12th  of  July,  it  had  turned  Scottish  history  into  new 
channels,  as  momentously  as  when  Cyrus  changed  the  course 
of  the  Euphrates  on  the  night  that  he  and  his  Persians 
captured  Babylon. 

The  Commissioner  of  Charles,  who  directed  the  Parliament, 
and  whose  name  stands  foremost  in  public  affairs  for  a  year 
or  two,  was  John,  Earl  of  Middleton.  He  was  one  of  those 
soldiers  of  fortune,  who  occupied  themselves  too  busily  in 
national  concerns,  and  who  were  for  the  most  part  without 
either  human  pity  or  religious  faith.  He  had  carved  his  way 
to  the  front  by  his  military  ability.  Originally  poor,  he  sought 
distinction  in  foreign  service ;  and  we  hear  of  him  as  "  a 
pikeman  in  Colonel  Hepburn's  regiment  in  France."  Ee- 
turning  to  his  own  country,  he  was  "so  zealous  anent  the 
Covenant  that,  when  he  took  it  and  held  up  his  right  hand, 
he  wished  that  that  right  arm  might  be  his  death,"  if  ever  he 
should  forget  his  vow.  It  was  under  the  Blue  Banner  that  he 
fought  in  the  campaigns  of  1644  and  1645,  and  David  Leslie 
had  not  many  subordmates  whom  he  held  in  greater  esteem. 
But  then  he  veered  round.  When  Charles  was  in  Scotland  in 
the  months  preceding  Worcester,  Major  Middleton  was  his 
close  friend.  Throughout  the  reign  of  the  Commonwealth,  he 
missed  no  opportunity  of  striking  a  blow  for  the  absent  prince. 
He  commanded  the  moss-troopers  who  for  a  time  kept  the 
flame  of  revolt  blazing  in  the  Highlands ;  but,  in  the  spring  of 
1654,  at   Dalnaspidal,  near  the  head  of   Loch  Garry,  he  was 


THE  DRUNKEN  PARLIAMENT  43 

overtaken  and  beaten  by  Colonel  Morgan.  Now,  when 
Puritanism  was  shorn  of  her  pride,  Middleton  became  a  peer  of 
the  realm  and  the  King's  representative  in  Scotland. 

He  was  a  fearless  officer,  and  he  had  gone  cheerfully  through 
perils  and  imprisonments  for  his  sovereign.  But  the  man  of 
camps  and  battles  was  too  violent,  too  arbitrary,  too  revengeful, 
to  be  a  wise  civil  governor.  He  had  a  temper'  which  would  not 
bear  opposition.  His  tastes  were  coarse,  and  his  habits,  even 
in  an  age  not  over-nice,  were  noticeably  gross  and  brutish. 
He  was  seldom  sober,  seldom  away  from  his  boon-companions. 
"  It  was  a  mad  roaring  time,  full  of  extravagance,"  Gilbert 
Burnet  writes, "  and  no  wonder  it  was  so,  when  the  men  of  affairs 
were  almost  perpetually  drunk."  The  Commissioner's  judg- 
ment was  beclouded,  and  his  passions  inflamed,  and  his  heart 
hardened,  by  constant  dissipation. 

As  for  living  belief,  he  did  not  know  what  it  meant. 
Eobert  Wodrow  has  a  story  which  shows  him  a  freethinker,  in 
whom  bluster  and  superstition  commingled.  In  Hamilton's 
army  in  1648,  the  minister  of  Eastwood  narrates,  Middleton 
had  for  bosom-friend  a  certain  Laird  of  Balbegno,  the  neighbour 
of  his  family  in  Kincardineshire.  It  was  within  a  week  of  the 
fight  at  Preston,  and  the  two  were  talking  of  the  risks  in 
front.  "  If  there  is  a  battle,"  Middleton  suggested,  "  what  if 
we  are  killed  ?  what  will  become  of  us  ? "  "  No  matter  ! "  the 
other  answered,  "we  shall  be  free  from  our  vexations  here- 
away." But  his  comrade  was  not  quite  convinced  that  we 
"  drink  of  Lethe  at  last  and  eat  of  lotus."  "  What  if  there  is  a 
future  world,"  he  retorted,  "  and  a  future  life  ? "  It  was  an 
empty  fable  of  the  ministers,  Balbegno  replied ;  and  Middleton 
avowed  his  sympathy.  "  But  suppose,"  he  went  on,  "  that 
things  should  turn  out  otherwise  ?  "  So  they  made  a  compact 
that,  if  one  died,  he  should  return,  if  that  were  possible,  from 
the  land  of  mystery,  to  inform  the  survivor  of  what  he  dis- 
covered there.  At  Preston  Balbegno  fell.  For  a  while 
Middleton  forgot  the  bargain,  until,  one  night,  he  was  sitting 
alone,  a  captive,  in  the  Tower  of  London.  Two  sentinels 
guarded  his  room.  He  had  been  listlessly  turning  over  the 
pages  of  a  Bible  which  he  had   found  in   the  chamber,  "for 


44  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

what  end  he  knew  not,  it  having  been  so  little  his  custom," 
when,  lifting  his  head,  and  looking  to  the  door,  he  saw  a  man 
standing  in  the  shadow.  "  Who  is  there  ? "  he  asked,  and  the 
answer  came, "  Balbegno."  "  That  cannot  be,"  he  declared, "  for 
I  saw  Balbegno  buried  after  he  was  slain  in  battle."  But  the 
ghostly  visitor  glided  forward,  and  reminded  him  of  their 
agreement,  and  caught  his  arm.  The  hand  laid  in  his, 
Middleton  told  afterwards,  "  was  hot  and  soft,  just  as  it  used  to 
be,  and  Balbegno  in  his  ordinary  likeness."  "  I  am  permitted 
to  stay  one  hour,"  the  apparition  said  ;  "  so  let  us  sit  down,  and 
put  your  watch  before  us."  In  the  weird  interview  the 
prisoner  learned  many  things :  how  he  should  escape  from 
his  dungeon;  how  the  King  was  to  be  restored;  how,  at 
Court,  favour  and  honour  awaited  him;  but  how,  at  length, 
the  sunshine  was  to  be  clouded  over  with  calamitous  eclipse. 
Then,  when  the  hour  was  done,  Balbegno  rose,  and  took  his 
leave,  and  lingered  for  an  instant  amongst  the  shadows  at  the 
door,  and  so  disappeared. 

This  was  the  man  who  guided  Scotland — bold  in  the  din  of 
the  fight,  and  true  to  his  King,  but  not  a  Happy  Warrior, 
unbelieving,  boorish,  roysteriug.  Others  of  kindred  tempera- 
ment helped  him.  The  Earl  of  Glencairn  was  Chancellor,  and 
he  was  Eoyalist  to  the  backbone.  Sir  Archibald  Primrose  filled 
the  office  of  Clerk-Kegister ;  his  were  the  shrewdest  intellect 
and  the  cleverest  tongue  in  the  Parliament  House ;  he  "  had 
an  art  of  speaking  to  all  men  according  to  their  sense  of  things, 
and  so  drew  out  their  secrets  while  he  concealed  his  own,  for 
words  went  for  nothing  with  him."  The  King's  Advocate  was 
Sir  John  Pletcher,  in  whose  veins  was  none  of  the  milk  of 
kindness ;  "  he  hated  all  mild  proceedings,  and  could  scarce 
speak  with  decency  or  patience  to  those  of  the  other  side."  It 
mattered  little  that  Lord  Crawford,  who  was  earnest  in  his 
Presbyterianism,  was  Treasurer ;  his  advice  was  overborne  by 
the  clamours  of  the  rest.  Within  a  few  years  the  Commissioner, 
drugged  by  the  sweets  of  power  as  well  as  by  fiery  liquors, 
was  to  cross  swords  with  a  man  clearer-eyed  and  stronger- 
willed  than  himself,  and  was  to  be  worsted  in  the  duel; — 
Balbegno's  gloomier  auguries  were   fulfilled   as  surely  as  his 


THE  DRUNKEN  PARLIAMENT  45 

gladsomer  predictions.     But,  until   that   moment   of  disaster, 
Middleton  and  his  allies  might  do  whatever  they  chose. 

They  made  abundant  use  of  their  chances.  During  its 
session  of  six  and  a  half  months,  the  Parliament  of  1661 
passed  no  less  than  three  hundred  and  ninety-three  Acts.  It 
would  have  been  extraordinary  if,  in  so  long  a  list,  there  were 
not  some  beneficent  measures.  It  is  curious  to  note  that 
means  were  adopted  to  safeguard  the  observance  of  the 
Sabbath,  and  to  prevent  profane  swearing  and  excessive 
drinking:  now  and  then  Satan  discloses  himself  as  the 
unexpected  reprover  of  sin.  But  Middleton's  first  session 
is  remembered  by  other  achievements  than  these.  Its  "  great 
design  and  business  was  to  make  the  King  absolute."  And, 
to  reach  this  end,  the  framers  of  the  laws  had  to  "  demolish 
the  outworks  and  bulwarks  of  the  Church,  and  to  blow  up  her 
government  itself."  Their  aim  was  to  re-establish  despotism 
and  to  destroy  Presbytery. 

There  were  no  boundaries  to  the  powers  with  which  they 
invested  the  King.  Their  earliest  proceeding  was  to  construct 
an  Oath  of  Allegiance — an  Oath  in  which  every  jurisdiction 
except  that  of  His  Majesty  was  renounced.  Its  terms  said 
nothing  about  Charles's  right  to  interfere  with  the  Church ; 
the  omission  and  the  ambiguity  were  deliberate,  for  meanwhile 
it  seemed  prudent  to  veil  some  of  the  tyrannies  which  the 
future  would  bring  to  light.  But,  under  cover  of  its  clauses, 
the  authors  of  the  Oath  intended  to  violate  the  domain  of 
conscience  and  to  attack  the  household  of  Christ.  In  coming 
years  it  was  to  be  an  effective  weapon  of  persecution;  the 
fidelity  of  men  and  women  to  the  Crown  was  to  be  tested  by 
their  willingness  to  swear  its  sentences ;  and  if  they  had  any 
scruples,  no  mercy  was  shown.  Further  still  the  Parliament 
went  in  subservience  to  the  sovereign.  It  decreed  that  he 
alone  could  choose  his  officers  of  State,  his  Privy  Councillors, 
his  Lords  of  Session ;  that  he  alone  could  call  and  hold  and 
prorogue  and  dissolve  all  conventions  and  meetings ;  that  he 
alone  could  enter  into  leagues  and  treaties;  that  he  alone 
could  proclaim  peace  or  war :  his  was  to  be  the  voice  of  a  god 
rather  than  that  of  a  man,     The  members  set  apart  the  29th 


46  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

of  May,  the  day  of  the  Glorious  Eeturn,  "  to  be  for  ever  an 
holy  day  unto  the  Lord."  Its  opening  hours  were  to  be  con- 
secrated to  prayer,  preaching,  thanksgiving,  and  praise;  its 
afternoon  and  evjening  were  to  be  spent  "  in  lawful  divertise- 
ments  suitable  to  so  solemn  an  occasion."  We  can  perceive 
to  what  license  the  gates  were  unbarred  by  this  statute, 
and  why  it  staggered  the  friends  of  the  Covenant,  who  kept 
their  garland  of  sanctity  for  God's  Sabbath,  and  cherished  an 
invincible  mistrust  of  man-made  festivals.  One  consummate 
folly  placed  the  copestone  on  the  Parliament's  excess  of 
loyalty.  It  voted  Charles  an  annual  grant  of  £40,000  sterling, 
and  thus  exhausted  the  resources  of  a  nation  which  required 
every  penny  of  its  money.  Four  years  later,  the  Earl  of 
Tweeddale,  a  nobleman  with  some  love  for  his  country,  wrote 
that  a  Dutch  invasion  would  be  for  Scotland  a  much  less 
serious  evil  than  the  smallest  increase  in  the  taxation  of  the 
people.  But  Middleton  and  Glencairn  and  Sir  Archibald 
Primrose  were  dominated  by  other  ideas.  For  the  benefit  of 
their  royal  and  wasteful  master  they  would  pauperise  the 
whole  community.  As  James  Kirkton  described  it,  "  they 
installed  their  King  a  sort  of  Pope." 

But  what  filled  many  hearts  with  keener  sorrow  than  this 
servility  towards  the  monarch  was  the  treatment  meted  out 
to  the  Church.  In  decision  after  decision,  Parliament  heaped 
insult  on  the  Covenant.  It  annulled  the  proceedings  of  the 
Convention  of  Estates,  which  had  sworn  the  Solemn  League. 
It  protested  that  the  great  bond,  "  which  had  in  Scotland 
universal  respect  next  to  the  Scripture,"  was  without  public 
and  permanent  obligation.  Then,  growing  in  hardihood,  the 
leaders  had  recourse  to  a  masterstroke.  By  a  general 
Eescissory  Act,  carried  on  the  28th  of  March  after  a  single 
debate,  they  revoked  "  the  pretendit  Parliaments  keept  in  the 
yeers  1640,  1641,  1644,  1645,  1646,  1647,  and  1648,  and  all 
acts  and  deids  past  and  done  in  them,"  declaring  "  the  same 
to  be  henceforth  voyd  and  null."  When  the  notion  was 
mooted  first,  it  seemed  too  big,  too  venturesome,  a  goal  too 
desirable  for  attainment.  It  "appeared  so  choking  that  it 
was  laid  aside."     But,  when  one  drastic  measure  after  another 


THE  DRUNKEN  PARLIAMENT  47 

secured  a  glib  consent,  Middleton  returned  to  the  darling 
scheme,  and  hurried  it  through  the  nerveless  and  recreant 
House.  What  did  he  gain  by  it  ?  The  cancelling  of 
everything  that  successive  legislatures,  in  which  the 
Presbyterian  element  predominated,  had  effected  for  the 
Church.  The  right  to  pronounce  disloyal  and  traitorous 
those  who  should  still  assert  their  attachment  to  the  flag  of 
the  Second  Keformation.  The  construction  of  a  high  road  by 
which  the  Bishops  might  ride  back  triumphant.  Indeed,  the 
Commissioner  would  have  pushed  on  immediately  to  the 
creation  of  his  hierarchy ;  but  astute  Sir  Archibald  Primrose 
counselled  a  pause.  "  Bring  the  Bishops  in,"  he  advised ; 
"  let  it  be  done  surely,  but  let  it  likewise  be  done  slowly." 
The  wary  Clerk-Kegister  won  his  point,  for  the  time,  with 
his  more  headstrong  chief ;  but,  whenever  the  Act  Rescissory 
had  received  the  imprimatur  of  Parliament,  the  end  was  in 
sight.  It  could  not  be  many  months  until  the  mitre  and 
lawn  sleeves  of  the  prelate  displaced  the  modest  Geneva 
ffown  of  the  minister. 

These  were  the  doings  of  the  Drunken  Parliament,  as 
it  has  been  nicknamed  ever  since.  For,  often,  it  was 
when  they  were  stupefied  by  their  carousals  that  the  senators 
decided  on  their  revolutionary  enactments.  They  robbed  the 
nation  of  its  liberties ;  they  checked  its  social  progress ;  they 
did  what  they  could  to  stifle  its  religious  life ;  and  their  sorry 
victory  was  procured,  when  wine  had  stolen  from  them  brain 
and  conscience  and  patriotism  and  most  things  worth  the 
keeping.  Bishop  Burnet's  epithets  are  not  too  severe :  it  was 
"  a  mad  roaring  time." 

One  day,  when  such  melancholy  events  were  happening, 
David  Dickson,  who  had  been  minister  in  Irvine  and  was 
now  Professor  in  Edinburgh,  and  who  wrote  some  verses 
not  yet  forgotten  —  0  Mother  dear,  Jerusalem  !  —  went  to 
expostulate  with  the  Earl  of  Middleton.  But  the  King's 
Commissioner  was  hugely  offended.  He  told  his  monitor 
that  he  was  mistaken  if  he  thought  to  overawe  him ;  he  was 
no  coward  to  tremble  before  a  priest.  "  For  three-and-twenty 
years,"  the  old  man  replied,  "  I  have  known  that  you  are  no 


48  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

coward,  ever  since  the  Brig  o'  Dee  in  the  June  of  1638."  It 
was  a  home-thrust ;  for,  in  that  past  midsummer,  Middleton's 
sword  had  been  unsheathed  in  defence  of  the  Covenant.  The 
Earl  had  no  answer;  and  the  minister  pleaded  with  him  to 
pay  regard,  if  not  to  the  Presbytery,  at  least  to  those  forty- 
two  members  of  Parliament  who  had  dared  to  dissent  from 
the  Eescissory  Act.  "  And,  my  Lord,"  he  added,  "  I  would 
put  you  in  mind  of  that  deep  exercise  of  soul,  under  which 
you  lay  in  St.  Andrews  in  1645,  when  you  were  sick  and  in 
hazard  of  death."  "  What ! "  Middleton  sneered,  "  do  you 
presume  to  speak  to  me  of  a  fit  of  fever  ?  "  So,  pained  to  the 
heart,  David  Dickson  turned  and  left  the  room. 

The  night  was  to  grow  darker — moonless,  starless,  hope- 
less— before  there  was  a  streak  of  day. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  DEATHBED  IN  ST.  ANDREWS. 

THE  Drunken  Parliament  did  something  more  than  pass  laws 
fraught  with  mischief  and  misery.  It  determined  to 
send  to  violent  death  the  leaders  in  the  Protesting  section  of 
the  Church,  the  men  whose  advocacy  of  the  Covenant  was 
most  unfaltering  and  outspoken.  Four  of  these  leaders  were 
marked  for  execution — Samuel  Kutherfurd;  the  Marquis  of 
Argyll ;  James  Guthrie ;  and  Archibald  Johnston,  Lord 
Wariston.  The  first  and  the  last  of  the  four  eluded  the  doom 
intended  for  them :  the  one  because  the  finger  of  God  beckoned 
him,  before  his  enemies  could  accomplish  their  purpose ;  the 
other  because  he  contrived  to  hide  himself  until  Middleton's 
power  was  vanishing,  although  in  this  instance  the  scaffold 
was  merely  postponed,  and  the  infliction  of  the  sentence  came 
at  the  hands  of  those  who  ousted  the  Commissioner  from  his 
place.  As  for  the  Marquis  and  the  minister  of  Stirling,  they 
were  crowned  at  once  with  the  thorny  crown  which  the 
Parliament  had  twined  for  their  brows. 

Ever  since  the  Eestoration  Samuel  Kutherfurd  must  have 
guessed  the  punishment  his  enemies  designed  for  him.  Three 
months  after  Charles's  return,  the  Committee  of  Estates  in 
Edinburgh  issued  a  proclamation,  worthy  in  its  rage  and 
impotence  of  a  mediaeval  Pope.  It  decreed  that  all  copies  of 
the  Lex  Rex  which  could  be  found  should  be  gathered  before 
the  middle  of  October,  and  burned  at  the  Mercat  Cross  in  the 
capital  and  at  the  gates  of  the  New  College  in  St.  Andrews. 
The  thing  was  duly  done ;  but,  "  full  of  seditious  and  treason- 
able matter  "  as  the  Lex  Rex  was  announced  to  be,  its  teaching 
lives  to  this  hour.  It  is  the  plea  of  the  Covenanters  for  the 
4  « 


50  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

majesty  of  the  people ;  for  the  truth  that  the  law,  and  no 
autocrat  on  the  throne,  is  king ;  for  the  creed  that  limit- 
less sovereignty  is  the  property  of  God  alone.  The  Stuart 
monarch  could  not  check  the  advance  of  these  principles  by 
bonfires  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh  and  St.  Andrews.  Much 
of  the  book,  it  has  been  said,  is  "  the  constitutional  inheritance 
of  all  countries  in  modern  times." 

These  are  axioms  of  the  Lex  Rex :  "  The  law  is  not  the 
king's  own,  but  is  given  to  him  in  trust " ;  "  Power  is  a  birth- 
right of  the  people  borrowed  from  them ;  they  may  let  it  out 
for  their  good,  and  resume  it  when  a  man  is  drunk  with  it " ; 
"  A  limited  and  mixed  monarchy  hath  glory,  order,  unity  from 
a  monarch ;  from  the  government  of  the  most  and  wisest  it 
hath  safety  of  counsel,  stability,  strength ;  from  the  influence 
of  the  Commons  it  hath  liberty,  privileges,  promptitude  of 
obedience."  They  are  the  axioms  on  which  our  regulated 
freedom  of  to-day  is  broad-based.  Looking  back  to  Ruther- 
furd,  we  see  his  forehead  lighted  with  the  prophecy  of  the 
better  era,  and  we  know  that,  almost  three  centuries  since, 
he  recognised 

what  health  there  is 
In  the  frank  Dawn's  delighted  eyes. 

In  the  autumn  of  1660  the  book  received  its  martyrdom, 
and  in  the  early  spring  of  1661  the  Privy  Council  and  the 
Parliament  were  eager  to  have  its  author  martyred  too.  He 
had  been  denuded  of  his  offices  in  the  University  of  St. 
Andrews,  and  deprived  of  his  pastoral  charge;  but  these 
confiscations  were  not  enough.  He  was  cited  to  appear  at  the 
bar  of  the  House  on  a  charge  of  treason.  The  messengers 
carried  the  citation  across  the  Firth  of  Forth.  But  God  had 
forestalled  them.  For  weeks,  as  Eutherfurd  wrote  in  a  letter, 
"  a  daily  menacing  disease  "  had  been  hanging  over  him ;  and 
he  lay  now  on  his  deathbed.  It  was  a  wasted  hand  which 
received  the  document  they  brought ;  but  the  voice  had  parted 
with  none  of  its  fire.  "  Tell  them,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  a 
summons  already  from  a  superior  Judge  and  judicatory,  and  I 
behove  to  answer  my  first  summons ;  and,  ere  your  day  arrives, 
I  will  be  where  few  kings  and  great  folks  come."     When  they 


A  DEATHBED  IN  ST.  ANDREWS  51 

reported  his  condition,  the  Council  declared  with  feeble  malice 
that  he  must  not  be  permitted  to  die  within  the  College  walls ; 
but,  even  in  the  hostile  court,  one  member  had  grace  and 
fortitude  to  befriend  him.  Lord  Burley  rose  and  said,  "Ye 
have  voted  that  honest  man  out  of  his  College,  but  ye  cannot 
vote  him  out  of  heaven."  Nothing  could  be.  truer  than  the 
courageous  word. 

While  he  waited  till  it  was  time  to  "answer  his  first 
summons,"  Samuel  Kutherfurd  must  have  been  visited  by 
moving  memories.  He  was  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  men 
in  an  age  of  heroes ;  and  he  had  many  marvels  to  recall,  as 
he  tarried  immediately  outside  the  joys  of  what  he  loved  to 
delineate  as  the  Upper  Garden  of  Grod. 

He  saw  himself  in  the  unprofitable  half  of  his  life — the 
little  child  in  the  Border  village  of  Crailing,  surrounded  even 
then  by  miracles ;  the  student  and  boyish  Professor  of  Latin 
in  Edinburgh ;  the  offender,  with  whom  the  University 
officials  quarrelled  because  of  some  irregularity  in  his  youth- 
ful marriage,  the  nature  of  which  we  cannot  now  unravel. 
These  were  the  acid  ingredients  in  the  cup  of  recollection.  For 
it  was  the  sorrow  of  his  later  years,  as  it  was  St.  Augustine's, 
that  he  allowed  liimself  to  reach  manhood  before  he  yielded 
his  heart  to  God.  "  Like  a  fool  as  I  was,"  he  says,  "  I  suffered 
my  sun  to  be  high  in  the  heaven,  and  near  afternoon."  Yew 
things  in  the  Letters  are  more  beautiful  than  the  earnestness 
with  which  he  beseeches  the  young  to  consecrate  their  freshest 
hours  to  eternity.  "  It  were  a  sweet  and  glorious  thing  for 
your  daughter  Grissel  to  give  herself  up  to  Christ,  that  He 
may  write  upon  her  His  Father's  name  and  His  own  new 
name."  "  I  desire  Patrick  to  give  Christ  the  flower  of  his  love  ; 
it  were  good  to  start  soon  to  the  way."  Was  it  the  thought 
of  his  own  delays  which  stirred  this  yearning  over  others  ? 
He  would  have  no  one  imitate  him,  "  loitering  on  the  road  too 
long,  and  trifling  at  the  gate." 

But  tliis  vision  passed,  and  the  dying  man  saw  himself 
minister  of  Anwoth.  For  nine  years,  from  1627  to  1636,  he 
was  the  spiritual  father  of  the  quiet  parish,  lying  round  the 
Water   of    Fleet,   among   the   soft   green   hills   of   Galloway. 


52  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

There  was  his  manse,  the  Bush  o'  Bield,  where  he  rose  each 
morning  at  three,  to  spend  the  day's  commencement  in  prayer 
and  study.  To  its  door,  one  unforgotten  Saturday,  Archbishop 
Ussher  turned  a&ide  in  the  disguise  of  a  traveller,  to  be  hospitably 
entertained,  and  catechised,  and  reproved  for  his  seeming  ignor- 
ance— an  ignorance  explained  when  he  spoke,  next  morning, 
in  the  Presbyterian  kirk,  on  the  new  commandment  of  Jesus, 
That  ye  love  one  another.  From  the  rooms  of  the  Anwoth 
manse,  the  mistress  of  the  home  and  more  than  one  of  the 
children  went  to  God ;  "  an  aftlicted  life,"  the  husband  and  father 
wrote,  "  looks  very  like  the  way  that  leads  to  the  Kingdom." 
Close  to  the  Bush  o'  Bield  stood  the  tiny  sanctuary,  as  tiny  as 
Herbert's  in  Bemerton;  the  visitor  may  still  walk  round  its 
ivied  and  ruined  walls.  What  a  centre  of  zealous  labour  it 
was !  "  For  such  a  piece  of  clay  as  Mr.  Eutherf urd,"  said 
James  Urquhart,  minister  in  Kinloss,  "  I  never  knew  one  in 
Scotland  like  him.  He  seemed  to  be  always  praying,  always 
preaching,  always  visiting  the  sick,  always  teaching  in  the 
schools,  always  writing  treatises,  always  reading  and  studying." 
The  Sabbath  was  his  crowning  day.  He  had  a  "  strange 
utterance,  a  kind  of  a  skreigh."  But  the  shrillness  of  the  voice 
could  not  hide  the  heart's  fervours,  and  the  hearers  hung  upon 
him  listening.  Often,  one  of  them  confessed,  he  fancied  the 
minister  "  would  have  flown  out  of  the  pulpit,  when  he  came 
to  speak  of  Christ,  the  Kose  of  Sharon  "  ;  then,  indeed,  he  was 
"  as  a  fish  in  the  ocean,  never  in  his  right  element  but  when  he 
was  commending "  his  Lord.  His  parishioners,  the  herd  boys 
as  well  as  the  Viscount  Kenmure,  revered  the  "  little  fair 
man."  They  recounted  his  untiring  charities.  In  his  very 
gait  they  detected  his  communion  with  God ;  "  when  he  walked, 
it  was  observed  he  held  aye  his  face  upward  and  heavenward." 
The  home,  the  church,  the  "  blessed  birds "  of  Anwoth,  the 
path  among  the  trees  which  lie  paced  talking  with  his  unseen 
Friend — he  beheld  them  again  in  dying,  and  thanked  God  for 
them. 

Then,  once  more,  his  dream  changed.  He  was  a  prisoner 
in  Aberdeen.  Sydserf,  Bishop  of  Galloway,  was  no  lover  of 
Samuel  Eutherfurd  ;  and  his  repugnance  was  heightened  when 


A  DEATHBED  IN  ST.  ANDREWS  53 

the  preacher  published  his  book  against  the  Arminians.  He 
haled  him  before  the  High  Commission  Court,  in  Wigtown  and 
in  Edinburgh,  and  had  him  deposed  and  exiled  to  the  northern 
city,  far  enough  distant  from  the  familiar  hills  and  tides.  "  I 
go,"  the  banished  man  said,  "  to  my  King's  palace  at  Aberdeen ; 
tongue,  pen,  and  wit  cannot  express  my  joy."  Bvit,  if  he  carried 
music  in  his  heart,  he  had  his  experiences  of  d-epression  during 
his  eighteen  months  of  seclusion.  It  was  hard  for  the 
impassioned  servitor  of  Jesus  to  maintain  silence.  "  I  had 
but  one  eye,"  he  mourned,  "  and  they  have  put  it  out."  Yet, 
long  before  he  came  to  his  deathbed,  he  saw  that  God's  purpose 
was  one  of  purest  grace.  A  new  field  of  work  had  been 
disclosed.  If  his  lips  were  shut,  his  pen  was  busy.  Two 
hundred  and  twenty  of  the  Letters,  those  amaranthine  Letters, 
whose  glow  and  tenderness  and  pungency  are  the  best 
demonstration  of  his  spiritual  genius,  were  sent  from  Aberdeen. 
This  was  the  divine  necessity  for  the  loneliness  and  hatred 
and  scorn.  Wordsworth  spent  the  winter  of  1798  in  North 
Germany.  It  was  the  bleakest  of  seasons,  and  the  village  of 
Goslar  where  he  lived  had  no  attractiveness.  But  these  four 
months,  Mr.  Frederic  Myers  assures  us,  were  the  bloom  of  his 
career.  Through  the  verses  written  then  the  loveliness  of 
English  scenery  and  English  childhood  shines  most  delicately. 
Lucy  Gray, "  the  sweetest  thing  that  ever  grew  beside  a  human 
door,"  and  Kuth,  who  "  at  her  will  went  wandering  over  dale 
and  hill,"  had  their  birth  in  the  desolate  German  town.  The 
same  happy  compensation  was  given  to  the  Covenanting 
minister.  He  lived  himself  in  a  land  of  brooks  of  water ;  and, 
not  content  with  the  personal  enjoyment  of  it,  he  has  guided 
thousands  of  pilgrims  to  the  wealthy  place. 

Perhaps  another  dream  followed.  He  was  in  the  Jerusalem 
Chamber  at  Westminster,  one  of  the  Scottish  commissioners  to 
the  Assembly  of  Divines.  "  For  the  great  parts  God  had  given 
him,"  wrote  Kobert  Baillie  with  the  pride  of  a  countryman, 
"  Mr.  Samuel's  presence  was  very  necessary."  Again,  in  his 
thoughts,  he  debated  the  doctrine  of  the  Church's  freedom 
against  the  captains  of  Erastianism,  Lightfoot  and  Selden. 
Again  he  argued  with  the  Independents ;  although  now,  more 


54  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

thau  ever,  he  felt  that  they  were  "  gracious  men,"  and,, "  of  all 
that  differed  from  us,  came  nearest  to  walking  with  God." 
Again  he  did  his  emphatic  part  in  framing  the  Confession,  and 
the  Directory,  and  the  Catechisms.  Did  he  recall,  too,  the 
fresh  and  poignant  home-griefs  of  these  London  years  ?  "I 
had  two  cMldren,"  so  he  had  related  the  sorrow  when  it  was 
new,  "and  both  are  dead  since  I  came  hither.  The  good 
Husbandman  may  pluck  His  roses  and  gatlier  His  lilies  in 
the  beginning  of  the  first  summer  months.  What  is  that 
to  you  or  to  me  ?  The  Creator  of  time  and  of  winds  did 
a  merciful  injury,  if  I  may  borrow  the  words,  in  landing 
the  passenger  so  early,"  Samuel  Rutherfurd  was  at  West- 
minster from  the  middle  of  1643  to  the  end  of  1647 ;  and 
he  was  glad  when,  at  length,  he  could  set  his  face  north- 
ward to  his  students  and  congregation  and  childless  home — 
glad  with  that  emotion  which  the  poet  calls  a  "  sour-sweet " 
delight. 

To  his  students  he  returned ;  for,  since  the  close  of  the 
Anwoth  ministry,  he  had  been  Professor  in  St.  Andrews.  And 
there,  in  labours  more  abundant  than  any  of  his  compeers,  he 
lived  the  remainder  of  his  life.  They  made  him  Principal  of 
the  New  College  and  Rector  of  the  University.  Since  Alexander 
Henderson  had  gone,  he  was  the  doyen  of  Scottish  thinkers 
and  teachers.  Other  lands  coveted  him.  Twice  Utrecht  sent 
him  a  call  to  occupy  its  chair  of  theology.  But  the  tempest- 
driven  Kirk,  with  its  unhappy  controversies  and  those  dangers 
that  loomed  ahead,  had  thrown  its  hoops  of  steel  about  his 
soul.  He  could  not  go  away.  "  I  had  rather  be  in  Scotland 
with  angry  Jesus  Christ,"  he  said, "  than  in  any  Eden  or  garden 
in  the  earth."  He  continued  in  St.  Andrews,  until  the  Earl 
of  Middleton  bade  him  answer  for  his  fearless  witness  against 
arbitrary  power  in  Church  and  State. 

Rutherfurd  was  not  a  perfect  man.  There  were  defects 
both  in  his  creed  and  in  his  character.  His  temper  was  fiery, 
and  too  frequently  he  made  no  serious  effort  to  moderate  its 
energy.  Dialectician  and  polemic  all  his  days,  he  had  scant 
mercy  for  those  who  saw  the  truth  from  other  angles  than 
his   own.     Towards  the   Resolutioners   he   showed,  on  many 


A  DEATHBED  IN  ST.  ANDREWS  55 

occasions,  an  acrimoniousness  far  from  admirable.  Perhaps 
it  was  inevitable  that  it  should  be  so.  "  The  intellectual 
gladiator,  the  rejoicing  and  remorseless  logician,  the  divider 
of  words,  the  distinguisher  of  thoughts,  the  hater  of  doubt 
and  ambiguity,  the  scorner  of  compromise  and  concession,  the 
incessant  and  determined  disputant,  the  passionate  admirer  of 
sequence  and  system  and  order  in  small  things  as  in  great — in 
the  corner  of  an  argument  as  in  the  mighty  world  outside  " : 
thus  Mr.  Taylor  Innes  paints  him  in  a  portrait  as  masterly 
as  any  of  Mr,  Sargent's;  and  so  intent  and  vehement  an 
ecclesiastic  forgets  at  times  the  urbanities  of  thought  and  the 
courtesies  of  speech.  But,  when  these  deductions  are  made, 
he  still  rises  to  a  stature  attained  by  only  the  select  few  in 
Christ's  dazzling  host — by  a  Bernard,  a  Madame  Guyon,  a 
Brainerd.  Mr.  Taylor  Innes  is  as  felicitous  in  depicting  the 
more  celestial  side.  This  man,  he  says,  was  "impatient  of 
earth,  intolerant  of  sin,  rapt  into  the  continual  contemplation 
of  one  unseen  Face,  finding  his  history  in  its  changing  aspect 
and  his  happiness  in  its  returning  smile." 

That  is  Eutherfurd's  glory,  his  absorption  in  Christ — 
Christ,  whom  he  lauds  as  "  the  outset,  the  master-flower, 
the  uncreated  garland  of  heaven,  the  love  and  joy  of  men 
and  angels."  Many  temperaments,  many  goals;  but  for 
him  there  is  only  one  Goal,  and  no  other  is  worth  the 
mentioning.  Madame  Duclaux,  whom  we  know  better  as 
Mary  Eobinson,  tells  us  in  an  exquisite  sonnet  about  the 
ideal  which  enthrals  her — 

^  For  in  my  heaven  both  sun  and  moon  is  he, 

To  my  bare  life  a  fruitful-flooding  Nile, 

His  voice  like  April  airs  that  in  our  isle 
Wake  sap  in  trees  that  slept  since  autumn  went. 

His  words  are  all  caresses,  and  his  smile 
The  relic  of  some  Eden  ravishment ; 
And  he  that  loves  me  so  I  call :  Content. 

But  Samuel  Eutherfurd's  Content  is  a  living  Person  and  not 
an  abstract  quality,  and  His  name  is  Jesus  Christ.  Again, 
Mr.  Stevenson  in  a  wonderful  letter  unfolds  his  supreme 
affection :  "  0  the  height  and  depth  of  novelty  and  worth  in 


56  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

art !  and  O  that  I  am  privileged  to  swim  through  such  oceans  ! 
What  a  great  space  and  a  great  air  there  is  !  An  art  is  a  fine 
fortune,  a  palace,  a  band  of  music,  health,  and  beauty.  I  sleep 
upon  my  art  for  a  pillow ;  I  waken  in  my  art.  I  love  my  wife, 
I  do  not  know  how  much,  nor  can,  nor  shall  unless  I  lost  her ; 
but,  while  I  can  conceive  my  being  widowed,  I  refuse  the 
offering  of  life  without  my  art.  I  am  not  but  in  my  art ;  it  is 
me ;  I  am  the  body  of  it  merely."  If  one  reads  the  passage 
a  second  time,  deleting  the  word  Art  and  substituting  the 
word  Christ,  it  is  what  Kutherfurd  would  have  written.  He 
went  to  sleep  with  Christ  for  his  pillow ;  he  awoke  in  Christ. 
Doubtless  he  loved  both  the  girl-wife  of  his  youth  and  the 
companion  of  his  riper  years,  although  in  him,  as  in  others  of 
his  Covenanting  kin,  we  note  a  certain  detachment  from  the 
ties  and  tendernesses  of  the  home ;  but,  while  he  could  endure 
widowhood,  he  would  have  refused  the  offering  of  life  without 
his  Christ.  His  heart,  as  he  said,  was  not  his  own ;  Jesus  had 
run  away  to  heaven  with  it. 

Christ  had  been  near  him  in  infancy,  though  he  was  a  man 
before  he  confessed  his  Lover's  grace.  Playing  once  with  the 
boys  of  Crailing,  the  child  stumbled  into  a  deep  well ;  and  his 
frightened  comrades  ran  to  acquaint  his  father  and  mother. 
They  hurried  out,  fearing  that  they  would  not  see  their  Samuel 
alive.  But  they  discovered  him  "  sitting  on  a  hillock,  a  little 
from  the  well,  all  wet  and  cold,"  but  unharmed  and  safe.  How 
had  he  got  there  ?  they  asked,  and  he  answered,  "  A  bonnie 
white  Man  drew  me  forth  and  set  me  down."  The  old  story- 
teller adds,  "It  is  thought  it  was  an  angel."  But  we  may 
surmise  that,  in  later  years,  the  boy  ascribed  his  deliver- 
ance to  One  more  excellent  than  the  angels,  their  Lord,  who 
had  "  come  riding  on  the  rainbow  and  clouds "  to  rescue 
him. 

And,  if  Christ  was  the  Beginning,  the  End  was  Christ,  beheld 
with  clearest  intelligence  and  firmest  faith  and  consuming 
love.  The  Analecta  preserves  some  "  words  that  dropped  from 
him  at  several  times,"  as,  in  that  March  of  1661,  Eutherfurd 
lay  in  his  room  and  looked  for  his  Master.  "  I  shall  shine ;  I 
shall  see  Him  as  He  is.     I  shall  see  Him  reigne,  and  all  the 


SAMUEL   RUTHERFUKD. 

From  a  Photograph  which  reproduces  a  Painting  now  in  Neio  York, 

Through  the  kitidness  of  the  Rev.  John  Slurrock  of  Edinburgh. 


A  DEATHBED  IN  ST.  ANDREWS  57 

fair  company  with  Him,  and  I  shall  have  my  large  share. 
Mine  eyes  shall  see  my  Redeemer,  and  noe  other  forme.  This 
seems  to  be  a  wide  word ;  but  it's  noe  fancy  nor  delusion :  it's 
treu,  it's  treu !  "  These,  too,  were  his  expressions :  "  My  blessed 
Master  !  My  kingly  King  !  Let  my  Lord's  name  be  exalted  ; 
and,  if  He  will,  let  my  name  be  ground  to  peices,  that  He  may 
be  all  and  in  all.  If  He  should  slay  me  ten  thousand  times 
ten  thousand  times,  I'll  trust."  Often  he  repeated  the  text. 
Thy  Word  was  found,  and  I  did  eat  it,  and  it  ivas  to  me  the  joy 
and  rejoicing  of  my  heart.  "  It's  noe  easy  thing  to  be  a 
Christian,"  he  said  to  one;  "but,  for  me,  I  have  gotten  the 
victory,  and  Christ  is  holding  out  both  His  armes  to  embrace 
me."  "  At  the  beginning  of  my  suffering,"  he  told  some  friends, 
"  I  had  my  fears  that  I  might  have  my  faintings,  and  not  be 
caryed  creditably  throu ;  and  I  laid  this  before  the  Lord ;  and 
as  sure  as  ever  He  spoke  to  me  in  His  Word,  as  sure  His 
Spirit  witnessed  in  my  heart,  Fear  not ;  and  the  outgate  shall 
not  be  simply  matter  of  prayer  but  matter  of  praise."  "  Fedd 
on  manna" — it  was  one  of  his  ejaculations.  When  the  end 
drew  near,  Robert  Blair  asked, "  What  think  you  now  of  Christ  ?  " 
"  I  shall  live  and  adore  Him,"  he  replied ;  and  in  whispers 
he  was  heard  saying  again  and  again,  "  Glory  to  Him  in 
Emanuell's  land ! "  That  One  Face  was  more  and  more  his 
Universe.  Someone  alluded  to  his  own  work  of  faith ;  but  he 
was  quick  to  interrupt :  "  I  disclaim  all.  The  port  I  would  be 
in  at  is  redemption  and  salvation  through  His  blood."  To  four 
of  his  brethren  who  visited  him,  he  gave  the  counsel :  "  Pray 
for  Christ;  preach  for  Christ;  do  all  for  Christ;  beware  of 
men-pleasing."  Once  or  twice  he  cried  for  "a  well-tuned 
harp,"  as  if  already  he  would  participate  in  the  strains  of 
the  worshippers  within  the  veil.  On  the  afternoon  before  he 
died,  he  predicted :  "  This  night  will  close  the  door,  and  fasten 
my  anchor;  and  I  shall  go  away  in  a  sleep  by  five  in  the 
morning."  And  thus  it  happened;  for  at  that  hour  on  the 
morning  of  the  29th  of  March — the  daybreak  hour  which,  as 
Henry  Vaughan  sings,  "  best  doth  chime "  with  the  glory  of 
the  divine  Bridegroom,  and  in  which  all  things  throughout 
the  creation  "  expect  some  sudden  matter  " — God  hid  Samuel 


58  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Eutherfurd  with  Himself  from  the  wrangling  and  cruelty  of 
wicked  men. 

Between  the  Parliament  in  Edinburgh  and  the  deathbed  in 
St.  Andrews  there  is  more  than  the  distance  which  separates 
earth  from  heaven." 


CHAPTER    IV.     • 

MAKQUIS  AND  MARTYR 

ABOUT  Archibald  Campbell,  the  eighth  Earl  and  the 
first  Marquis  of  Argyll,  there  clings  the  fascination 
with  which  mystery  and  manysidedness  invest  a  man.  His 
nature  is  complex,  involved,  difficult  at  times  to  read.  It  is 
not  as  straight  as  the  flight  of  an  arrow,  nor  as  clear  as  the 
landscape  which  the  noonday  sun  explains.  Two  portraits  of 
him  live  in  fiction,  one  nearly  a  century  old,  the  other  limned 
but  a  year  or  two  since.  The  earlier,  that  of  The  Legend  of 
Montrose,  is  the  more  unfavourable.  "  His  dark  complexion, 
furrowed  forehead,  and  downcast  look,  gave  him  the  appearance 
of  one  frequently  engaged  in  the  consideration  of  important 
affairs,  who  has  acquired  by  long  habit  an  air  of  gravity, 
which  he  cannot  shake  off  even  where  there  is  nothing  to  be 
concealed.  The  cast  with  his  eyes,  which  had  procured  him 
in  the  Highlands  the  nickname  of  Gillespie  Grumach,  or  the 
Grim,  was  less  perceptible  when  he  looked  downward,  which 
perhaps  was  one  cause  of  his  having  adopted  that  habit.  In 
person  he  was  tall  and  thin,  but  not  without  that  dignity  of 
deportment  and  manners  which  became  his  high  rank.  Some- 
thing there  was  cold  in  his  address  and  sinister  in  his  look 
He  was  adored  by  his  own  clan,  whose  advancement  he  had 
greatly  studied,  while  others  conceived  themselves  in  danger 
from  his  future  schemes,  and  all  dreaded  the  height  to  which 
he  was  elevated."  The  later  picture,  drawn  by  Mr.  Neil 
Munro,  is  more  psychological  and  discriminating  than  Scott's 
rougher  and  rapider  sketch.  "  Had  our  Lordship  in-bye,"  says 
John  Splendid,  "  been  sent  a-fostering  in  the  old  style,  brought 
up  to  the  chase  and  the  sword  and  manly  comportment,  he 


6o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

would  not  have  that  wan  cheek  this  day,  and  that  swithering 
about  what  he  would  be  at  next."  Or  we  may  hearken  to 
Archibald  the  Grim  himself,  as  this  most  recent  chronicler 
reports  his  confessions :  "  There  is,  I  allow,  a  kind  of  man 
whom  strife  sets  off,  a  middling  good  man  in  his  way  perhaps, 
with  a  call  to  the  sword  whose  justice  he  has  never  questioned. 
I  have  studied  the  philosophies ;  I  have  reflected  on  life,  the 
unfathomable  problem ;  and,  before  God,  I  begin  to  doubt  my 
very  right  to  wear  a  breastplate  against  the  poignard  of  fate. 
Dubiety  plays  on  me  like  a  flute."  Here  is  a  personality  not 
to  be  interpreted  by  any  short  and  easy  method — one  which 
may  present  bewildering  and  opposing  aspects,  and  which  is 
sure  to  be  familiar  with  conflicting  moods. 

Let  us  admit  that  Argyll's  greatness  was  not  that  of  the 
soldier.  He  had  moral  courage ;  but  he  knew  little  about 
the  warrior's  stern  joy  in  the  clash  of  conflicting  foes.  On  the 
fatal  February  day  in  1645,  when  at  Inverlochy  they  faced 
Montrose,  the  men  who  wore  the  Campbell  tartan  were  "  hewn 
down  on  the  edge  of  the  tide  till  its  waves  ran  red."  And 
their  chief  left  the  scene  of  carnage  in  his  barge,  the  Dublilinn- 
seach — the  Black  Sail — before  the  battle  he  lost  had  well 
commenced.  Perhaps  he  would  have  come  through  it  honour- 
ably enough;  but  it  was  one  of  the  critical  moments  when 
"dubiety  played  on  him  like  a  flute."  He  listened  to  the 
advice  of  others,  who  pleaded  that  his  life  was  much  too 
precious  to  the  cause  of  the  Covenant  to  be  exposed  to  need- 
less danger — listened  to  them  until  his  own  directness  of 
vision  and  power  of  initiative  were  forfeited ;  and  the  failure 
followed,  and  by  and  by  the  remorse.  Gillespie  Grumach — 
although,  after  all,  that  unflattering  sobriquet  is  not  his  own 
but  his  father's — was  not  among  the  generals  whose  very 
presence  brings  exhilaration  and  victory. 

Let  us  admit,  too,  that,  like  Caesar,  he  was  ambitious. 
He  had  no  liking  for  the  subordinate  place.  And  it  is  hard 
for  the  man  who  aspires  to  primacy  to  be  always  consistent,  to 
keep  the  unswerving  course,  and  to  steer  right  onward.  Biting 
adjectives  are  often  affixed  to  Argyll's  name ;  Mr.  Morley  has 
said  that  in  his  politics  he  was  "  a  shifty  and  astute  opportunist." 


MARQUIS  AND  MARTYR  6i 

But  they  are  draconian  judges  who  write  in  this  style.  Doubt- 
less he  had  his  compromises  and  concealments ;  it  was  not  easy, 
in  those  years  of  turmoil,  for  the  leaders  in  opinion  and  action 
to  avoid  accepting  at  times,  instead  of  the  prize  on  which  their 
own  hearts  were  set,  some  poorer  substitute.  If  it  must  be 
granted  that  he  appeared  variable,  the  sudden  surprises,  the 
strange  turnings  and  windings,  of  the  history  in  which  he 
was  so  outstanding  a  figure,  are  accountable  for  most  of  the 
changes  in  his  tactics.  In  1648,  in  the  days  of  the  Whigga- 
more  Kaid,  when  Preston  had  plunged  the  promoters  of  the 
Engagement  into  humiliation,  and  when  the  stricter  Covenanters 
were  supreme,  he  supped  with  Cromwell  at  Moray  House,  in 
the  Canongate  of  Edinburgh.  Six  months  later  he  cherished 
thoughts  the  reverse  of  friendly  towards  the  English  captain 
and  his  army.  But  the  revolution  in  feeling  had  a  sufficient 
cause.  In  the  interval  the  scaffold  at  Whitehall  had  been 
erected.  The  Scots,  who  abhorred  the  tyrannies  of  the  King, 
held  his  person  and  his  office  inextinguishably  dear ;  and  Argyll 
shared  to  the  full  both  their  hates  and  their  loves.  It  was  in 
his  blood,  it  was  a  necessity  of  birth  and  temperament,  that 
he  should  set  himself  against  the  less  emotional  and  more 
thoroughgoing  Roundheads.  But  we  could  wish  that  he  had 
not  espoused  the  quarrel  of  Charles  the  Second  with  such 
entire  abandonment.  He  was  chief  performer  in  the  corona- 
tion scene  at  Scone.  There  were  even  proposals  that  the 
prince  should  marry  the  eldest  of  his  four  daughters,  the  Lady 
Anne  Campbell,  "  a  gentlewoman  of  rare  parts  and  education." 
The  scheme  came  to  nothing,  for  Queen  Henrietta  Maria  would 
not  tolerate  it,  and  Charles  was  not  himself  a  passionate 
wooer ;  but  the  disenchantment  brought  sore  grief  to  poor 
Lady  Anne,  who  "  lossed  her  spirit  and  turned  absolutely 
distracted,"  and  probably  the  indiscreet  plan  was  remembered 
at  a  later  time  to  her  father's  discredit  and  undoing.  Yet, 
short  of  becoming  his  son-in-law,  the  King  of  1650  and  1651 
was  prepared  to  lavish  every  favour  on  the  powerful  noble, 
whose  support  he  was  so  keen  to  win.  "  Particularly,  I  doe 
promis,"  he  wrote  in  a  letter  from  "  St.  .lohnston,"  as  the  city 
of  Perth  used  to  be   called,  "  that  I  will   mak  him   I3uk   of 


62  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Argyll,  and  Knight  of  the  Garter,  and  one  of  the  gentlemen  of 
my  bedchamber ;  and  this  to  be  performed  when  he  shall  think 
it  fitt.  And  I  doe  further  promis  him  to  hearken  to  his  counsels  ; 
and,  whensoever  it  shall  pleas  God  to  restor  me  to  my  just 
rights  in  England,  I  shall  see  him  payed  the  forty  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  which  is  due  to  him.  All  which  I  doe  promis 
to  mak  good,  upon  the  word  of  a  King."  Imagination  could 
not  have  guessed,  when  this  letter  was  sent,  the  tragedy  which 
the  future  was  keeping  for  its  recipient ;  but  frequently 
Charles's  smiles  were  auguries  of  disaster  as  sure  as  his  frowns. 
Having  travelled  so  far  in  Eoyalism,  the  Marquis  needed  to 
behave  himself  with  wariness  and  circumspection  through 
Cromwell's  tenure  of  power.  To  Major-General  Deane  he 
gave  his  formal  submission  to  the  Commonwealth ;  but  there 
was  little  love  on  either  side.  In  the  Newsletters  written  by 
the  soldiers  of  the  Parliamentary  army,  one  reads  their  distrust 
of  the  man  whom  they  dreaded  most  in  Scotland :  "  It's  said 
Argyle  hath  sent  a  Letter  with  several  addresses  to  the  titular 
King ;  what  the  effect  of  it  is,  as  yet  we  know  not.  He  is  a 
subtle  Fox,  but,  if  he  close  not  quickly,  it  is  not  the  rockie 
Earths  he  hath  amongst  the  Mountains  that  can  secure  him." 
First  and  last,  the  politician  trod  a  difficult  path. 

Yet  Scotland  would  have  fared  happily,  if  she  had  been 
permitted  to  keep  his  hand  on  the  helm  of  affairs.  Within 
her  borders  he  was  the  one  man  of  his  time.  Professor  Hume 
Brown  has  said  recently,  who  can  be  regarded  as  a  statesman ; 
and  the  eulogy  is  only  a  modern  version  of  the  older  testimony 
that,  in  the  hour  of  crisis,  he  "  did  give  most  and  best  advice 
in  every  purpose."  We  recall  what  Catherine  de  Medici  told 
the  Huguenots  about  Gaspard  de  Coligny :  "  If  the  Admiral 
were  dead,  I  would  not  offer  you  a  cup  of  cold  water." 
Archibald  Campbell  was  equally  indispensable  to  the  men 
who  trusted  him ;  and  good  John  Howie  of  Lochgoin  is  as 
true  as  he  is  epigrammatic,  when  lie  declares  that  he  had 
"  piety  for  a  Christian,  sense  for  a  counsellor,  courage  for  a 
martyr,  and  a  soul  for  a  king." 

Piety  for  a  Christian :  that  is  Argyll's  enduring  diadem. 
His  Protestantism  had  always   been  beyond  dispute.     While 


MARQUIS  AND  MARTYR  63 

he  was  quite  young — ^just  approaching  his  majority,  if  we 
adopt  the  conclusion,  arrived  at  by  Mr.  Willcock  in  his  most 
exhaustive  biography,  that  he  was  born  in  1607 — his  father, 
going  over  to  the  Roman  CathoHc  Church,  had  been  compelled 
to  surrender  to  his  eldest  son  the  family  inheritance  and  more 
than  one  public  office.  But  a  man  may  be  a  zealous  Pro- 
testant who  has  no  vital  faith ;  and  it  was  not  for  ten 
years  more  that  the  new  ruler  of  western  Scotland  from  Ben 
Cruachan  to  the  Mull  of  Kintyre  bowed,  in  lowliness  of  trust 
and  obedience,  before  the  Master  who  is  greater  than  he. 
In  the  Analeda,  that  voluminous  and  delectable  notebook, 
we  read  that  he  owed  his  soul  to  Alexander  Henderson. 
"  During  the  Assembly  at  Glasgow,  Mr.  Henderson  and  other 
ministers  spent  many  nights  in  prayer  with  the  Marquis  of 
Argyll ;  and  he  dated  either  his  conversion  or  the  knowledge 
of  it  from  these  times."  It  was  at  the  epoch-making  Assembly, 
moreover,  that  he  first  confessed  his  ecclesiastical  predilections. 
When  the  King's  Commissioner  left  the  High  Church  and  the 
resolute  ministers,  Argyll  advised  them  to  persevere  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  His  sympathy  with  them  had  been 
secret  too  long,  he  avowed;  henceforward  he  would  espouse 
their  cause  in  the  hght  of  day  and  against  all  challengers. 
The  Moderator  could  not  refrain  from  giving  open  expression 
to  his  gladness  over  so  notable  a  recruit.  "  Though  we  had 
not  a  nobleman  to  assist  us,"  he  said,  and  there  was  no 
braggadocio  in  the  valiant  words,  "  our  cause  were  not  the 
worse  nor  the  weaker ;  but  occasion  is  given  us  to  bless  God 
that  they  are  coming  in  daily." 

Scotland's  first  citizen  never  withdrew  his  championship 
of  the  Covenanters,  and  never  became  lukewarm  in  their 
defence ;  "  his  authority  and  wise  courage,"  BailHe  says,  "  has 
much  stopped  the  mouths  of  our  enemies."  The  chivalry  was 
to  cost  him  dear.  It  made  him  adversaries  among  tlie  men 
whose  season  of  holiday  and  lordship  began  when  Charles 
Stuart  returned  from  vagabondage  to  tlie  throne.  "  Underhand 
Argayll,"  Eothes  dubs  him  in  a  letter  written  a  month  before 
the  Restoration — Rothes,  the  degenerate  son  of  the  old  Earl 
who  figured  in  the  Greyfriars  at  the  swearing  of  the  Covenant. 


64  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Middleton,  too,  coveted  for  himself  some  of  the  Marquis's 
estates  and  prerogatives.  But,  what  was  worst  of  all,  the 
sequel  showed  that  the  monarch  was  determined  to  crush 
the  strongest  of  his  Scottish  lieges.  There  were  to  be  no 
Dukedoms  and  decorations  for  Archibald  Campbell,  although 
they  had  been  promised  him  on  the  word  of  a  King. 

No,  but  something  very  different.  Six  weeks  after  Charles 
entered  London,  the  Marquis  went  south  to  congratulate  him. 
He  had  been  warned  of  the  danger  of  the  journey ;  there  were 
observant  friends  who  saw  the  storm  impending.  But  he 
would  not  admit  a  doubt  of  his  royal  master's  constancy ;  he 
steadfastly  set  his  face  to  go  up  to  his  Jerusalem.  The 
sovereign  never  allowed  him  to  come  nearer  his  presence 
than  the  precincts  of  Whitehall;  as  soon  as  his  arrival  was 
known,  he  commanded  Sir  William  Fleming  to  imprison  him 
in  the  Tower.  There,  through  summer  and  autumn  and  early 
winter,  he  lay  in  chains,  until  in  December  he  was  sent  back 
to  Scotland  by  sea,  to  stand  his  trial  before  the  Parliament 
in  Edinburgh.  It  was  a  trial  which  might  have  been  omitted 
altogether,  no  process  of  justice,  but  a  travesty  of  righteous 
procedure.  The  judges  had  decided  from  the  commencement 
what  the  end  was  to  be.  "  The  M.  of  Argyl,"  wrote  James 
Sharp  on  the  7th  of  February  16Cl,"is  to  be  arraigned  upon 
Moonday  nixt ;  the  most  able  advocats  cannot  be  induced  to 
plead  for  him,  concluding  him  a  gone  man." 

Judges  and  advocates  understood  the  wishes  of  Charles, 
and  they  were  unvexed  by  scruples  of  conscience.  All  sorts 
of  obstacles  were  thrown  in  the  prisoner's  way.  The  young 
lawyers  who  at  length  were  persuaded  to  defend  him — Eobert 
Sinclair,  and  John  Cunningham,  and  George  Mackenzie,  the 
last  the  "  Bluidy  Mackenzie  "  of  later  decades — were  shame- 
fully threatened  and  bullied.  He  had  insufficient  time 
allotted  him  to  prepare  his  own  apologia.  He  was  hurried 
from  examination  to  examination.  Yet,  although  there  were 
no  fewer  than  fourteen  counts  in  the  elaborate  indictment; 
although  now  his  Covenanting,  and  now  his  harassing  of 
Montrose,  and  then  his  compliance  with  Cromwell,  and  again 
his  questioning  of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  was  tlie  charge 


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ARCHIBALD   CAMPBELL,    FIRST   MARQUIS   OF  ARGYLL. 


MARQUIS  AND  MARTYR  65 

which  lie  had  to  rebut ;  although  the  weary  debates  dragged 
their  slow  length  along  from  January  until  the  latter  part  of 
May :  he  never  once  lost  heart,  and  he  succeeded  in  making 
his  innocence  so  incontrovertible  that  even  the  venal  tribunal 
before  which  he  stood  began  to  feel  itself  perplexed  and  baffled. 
Could  it  be  that  the  victim,  who  had  been  marked  out  for  the 
scaffold,  was  to  escape  its  toils  and  to  regain  his  liberty  ?  Here 
and  there  he  found  his  sympathisers,  who  had  nerve  enough  to 
range  themselves  on  his  side ;  there  is  no  flock  of  black  sheep 
but  shows  one  or  too  snowy  fleeces.  One  day  the  leader  of 
this  gallant  minority  was  speaking  on  his  friend's  behalf, 
when  suddenly  a  peremptory  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door. 
It  was  a  messenger  who  had  ridden  post-haste  from  London, 
from  the  Duke  of  Albemarle,  the  Duke  whom  the  country 
knew  as  General  Monck,  and  who  brought  from  his  Grace  a 
packet  of  old  letters  which  the  Marquis  had  written  years 
before.  They  were  opened.  They  contained  some  expressions 
of  goodwill  to  the  Commonwealth  and  the  Lord  Protector. 
It  was  the  one  argument  for  which  the  unjust  arbiters  in  the 
Parliament  House  were  searching,  to  excuse  the  crime  which 
they  were  pledged  to  commit.  On  the  evidence  of  a  turncoat 
they  condemned  the  truer  man  at  their  bar. 

The  sentence  was  relentless.  The  prisoner  was  bidden 
kneel  down.  "  I  will,  in  all  humility,"  he  replied,  and  suited 
the  action  to  the  word.  Then  the  verdict  was  read :  "  That 
Archibald  Campbell,  Marquis  of  Argyll,  is  found  guilty  of 
high  treason,  and  is  adjudged  to  be  execute  to  the  death  as  a 
traitor,  his  head  to  be  severed  from  his  body  at  the  Cross  of 
Edinburgh,  upon  Monday,  the  twenty-seventh  instant,  and  to 
be  affixed  in  the  same  place  where  the  Marquis  of  Montrose's 
head  was  formerly."  He  craved  a  respite  of  ten  days,  that 
he  might  address  a  last  petition  to  his  King;  probably  he 
anticipated  the  curt  and  pitiless  refusal  with  which  the 
trifling  boon  was  vetoed.  But  no  shadow  of  misgiving 
darkened  his  spirit.  "  I  had  the  honour  to  set  the  crown  on 
the  King's  head,"  he  said,  "  and  now  he  hastens  me  to  a  better 
crown  than  his  own."  Then,  looking  round  on  the  crowded 
benches,  he  spoke  his  final  message  to  his  persecutors.  "  You 
5 


66  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

have  the  indemnity  of  an  earthly  King  in  your  hands,  and 
have  denied  me  a  share  in  that ;  but  you  cannot  hinder  me 
from  the  indemnity  of  the  King  of  kings.  Shortly  you  must 
be  before  His  tribunal.  I  pray  He  mete  not  out  such 
measure  to  you  as  you  have  done  to  me."  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  this  sufferer  was  baptised  into  the  forgiving  ruth 
of  Calvary,  and  that  the  younger  brother  reminds  us  of  the 
Elder  and  His  exceeding  grace. 

It  was  Saturday,  the  25  th  of  May  1661;  within  two  days 
his  fight  would  be  over.  He  employed  the  brief  pause  very 
nobly.  In  the  Tolbooth  he  found  the  Marchioness  waiting  for 
him — the  Lady  Margaret  Douglas  she  had  been,  until  she  was 
wedded  to  Lord  Lome  five-and-thirty  summers  past  and  gone. 
"  They  have  given  me,"  he  told  her  with  quiet  gentleness, 
"  till  Monday  to  be  with  you,  my  dear  " ;  and  she  flung  herself 
into  his  arms  in  an  agony  of  weeping,  crying  out,  "  The  Lord 
will  require  it !  The  Lord  will  require  it ! "  But  it  was  not  on 
this  Saturday  for  the  first  time  that  she  felt  the  sharpness 
of  the  heartbreak ;  through  ten  long  years  the  doom  awaiting 
her  husband  had  risen  with  her  every  morning.  "  After  King 
Charles's  Coronation,"  Wodrow  says,  "  when  he  was  in  Stirling, 
the  Marquis  waited  long  for  an  opportunity  to  deal  freely  with 
the  King  anent  his  going  contrary  to  the  Covenant,  and 
favouring  the  Malignants,  and  other  sins.  And  Sabbath  night, 
after  supper,  he  went  in  with  him  to  his  closet,  and  there  used 
a  great  deal  of  freedom  with  him,  and  the  King  was  seemingly 
sensible,  and  they  came  that  length  as  to  pray  and  mourn 
together  till  two  or  three  in  the  morning.  And  when  at  that 
time  he  came  home  to  his  Lady,  she  was  surprised,  and  told 
him  she  never  knew  him  so  untimeous.  He  said,  he  had  never 
had  such  a  sweet  night  in  the  world,  and  told  her  all — what 
liberty  they  had  in  prayer,  and  how  much  concerned  the  King 
was.  She  said  plainly,  they  were  '  crocodile  tears,'  and  that 
night  would  cost  him  his  head."  Thus  it  is  that  love  purges 
the  vision  as  with  euphrasy  and  rue,  and  lays  heavy  burdens 
on  the  soul ;  and  now,  the  predestined  hour  having  come,  its 
gloomiest  forecasts  were  proving  all  too  true. 

But  in  his  breast  her  husband  wore  the  Flower  of  Peace, 


MARQUIS  AND  MARTYR  67 

"  the  rose  that  cannot  wither."  All  his  life  the  Marquis  had 
reproached  himself,  not  wholly  without  reason,  for  his  nervous- 
ness and  timidity ;  even  in  prison,  he  confessed,  he  had  hitherto 
been  somewhat  inclined  to  fear.  But,  since  he  hearkened  to 
the  death-warrant,  these  alarms,  like  birds  of  bad  omen,  had 
spread  their  dusky  wings  and  flown  away.  "  For  my  part,"  he 
said,  "  I  am  as  content  to  be  here,"  among  the  felons  in  the 
common  gaol,  "  as  in  the  Castle,  and  I  was  as  content  in  the 
Castle  as  in  the  Tower  of  London,  and  there  I  was  as  content 
as  when  at  liberty ;  and  I  hope  to  be  as  content  upon  the 
scaffold  as  in  any  of  them  all."  He  could  ascribe  the  surgeless 
calm  to  nothing  else  than  the  special  mercy  of  God.  Both 
nights  he  slept  soundly,  as  his  bedfellow,  David  Dickson, 
could  testify.  On  the  Monday  morning  he  rose  early  ;  for  he 
had  papers  to  subscribe,  and  letters  to  compose,  and  many 
friends  to  see.  But  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  hide  that 
mystic  gladness  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  possessed  him.  "  I 
thought  to  have  concealed  the  Lord's  goodness,"  he  broke  out ; 
"but  it  will  not  do.  I  am  ordering  my  affairs,  and  God  is 
sealing  my  charter  to  a  better  inheritance.  He  is  just  now 
saying  to  me,  Son,  he  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  are  forgiven." 
Argyll  was  tasting  no  draught  of  death,  but  an  elixir  of  life. 

To  the  end  the  brave  equanimity  was  maintained.  He 
forewarned  the  ministers  who  visited  him  that,  in  the  years 
which  were  impending,  they  must  "  either  suffer  much  or  sin 
much  "  ;  for  there  would  be  no  neutral  zone,  where  they  could 
denude  themselves  of  their  responsibilities.  He  wrote  King 
Charles  who  had  pursued  him  to  his  doom,  and  there  was  not 
a  syllable  of  querulous  complaint  in  the  letter  to  his  "  Most 
Sacred  Sovereign  " :  there  was  nothing  else  than  the  assertion 
of  his  freedom  from  every  misdemeanour  except  that  of  a 
forced  acquiescence  in  Cromwell's  domination,  "  which  was  an 
epidemic  disease  and  fault  of  the  time " ;  this  assertion,  and 
the  entreaty  that  his  widow  and  children  should  not  suffer 
on  his  account ;  and  then  the  prayer  that  "  your  Majesty  and 
your  successors  may  always  sway  the  sceptre  of  these  nations, 
and  that  they  may  be  a  blessed  people  under  your  government." 
It  was  now  almost  two  o'clock,  the  time  which  had  been  fixed 


68  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

for  the  execution  ;  and  the  officer  told  him  that  they  must 
hasten.  He  rose  at  once,  and  moved  towards  the  door,  taking 
farewell  of  one  and  of  another  in  the  room.  "  I  could  die  like 
a  Koman,"  he  said,  in  words  which  have  never  been  forgotten ; 
"  but  I  choose  rather  to  die  like  a  Christian.  Come  away, 
gentlemen;  he  that  goes  first  goes  cleanliest."  On  the  way 
down  the  stair,  he  called  James  Guthrie  to  him — James 
Guthrie  who,  within  a  week,  was  to  follow  him  along  the  road 
of  martyrdom.  The  two  bondmen  and  freemen  of  Christ 
embraced  each  other.  "  My  Lord,"  Guthrie  assured  him, 
"  God  has  been  with  you.  He  is  with  you,  and  He  will  be  with 
you.  Such  is  my  respect  for  your  Lordship  that,  if  I  were  not 
under  the  sentence  of  death  myself,  I  could  cheerfully  die 
for  your  Lordship."  So  those  who  were  ready  to  be  offered 
up  greeted  one  another,  as  they  went  joyously  to  the  altar- 
fires. 

On  the  scaffold  he  bore  himself  like  a  courteous  gentleman. 
He  bowed  -with  grave  serenity  to  those  whom  he  found  waiting 
for  him.  Then,  after  one  of  the  ministers  had  prayed,  he 
spoke  his  farewell  words  to  the  crowd.  He  would  say 
nothing,  he  declared,  regarding  the  hardness  of  the  sentence ; 
"  I  bless  the  Lord,"  he  added,  "  I  pardon  all  men,  as  I  desire  to 
be  pardoned  myself."  He  professed  again  his  devotion  to  His 
Majesty's  person  and  government ;  "  I  was  real  and  cordial  in 
my  desires  to  bring  the  King  home,  and  in  my  endeavours 
for  him  when  he  was  at  home."  His  regard  for  the  earthly 
monarch  was  secondary  only  to  his  more  consuming  affection 
for  the  Heavenly.  "  It  is  the  duty  of  every  Christian  to  be 
loyal ;  yet  I  think  the  order  of  things  is  to  be  observed  as  well 
as  their  nature.  Keligion  must  not  be  in  the  cockboat,  but  in 
the  ship.  God  must  have  what  is  His,  as  well  as  Caesar  what  is 
his.  Those  are  the  best  subjects  that  are  the  best  Christians  ; 
and  that  I  am  looked  upon  as  the  friend  to  Keformation  is  my 
glory."  Indeed,  no  Eoman  of  them  all,  not  Marcus  Kegulus  in 
the  splendour  of  his  captivity  and  sacrifice  in  Carthage,  had  a 
grander  ending  than  this.  "  I  stayed  and  saw  him  die,"  says 
Elrigmore  in  Mr.  Munro's  story ;  "  I  saw  his  head  up  and  his 
chin  in  the  air  as  behoved  his  quality,  the  day  he  went  through 


MARQUIS  AND  MARTYR  69 

that  noisy,  crowded,  causied  Edinburgh — Edinburgh  of  the 
doleful  memories,  Edinburgh  whose  ports  I  never  enter  but  I 
feel  a  tickling  at  the  nape  of  my  neck,  as  where  a  wooden 
collar  should  lie  before  the  shear  fall." 

When  the  last  speech  was  done,  another  of  tlie  ministers 
prayed;  and  afterwards  the  Marquis  carried  the  requests 
of  his  own  soul  to  God  in  petitions  which  lingered  in  the 
memories  of  those  who  heard  them.  This  was  the  time  when 
Cunningham,  his  physician,  as  the  doctor  himself  told  Bishop 
Burnet,  touched  his  patron's  pulse,  and  discovered  that  it  was 
beating  at  the  usual  rate,  unhurried  and  strong.  And  now 
he  went  forward  to  the  Maiden.  "  My  Lord,"  said  George 
Hutcheson  the  preacher,  "  hold  your  grip  sicker  " — keep  your 
grasp  unshaken  on  Him  who  is  Faithful  and  True.  "Mr. 
Hutcheson,"  Argyll  answered,  "  you  know  what  I  said  in  the 
chamber ;  I  am  not  afraid  to  be  surprised  with  fear."  Once 
more,  in  a  clear  voice,  "  as  one  entering  on  eternity  and  about 
to  appear  before  his  Judge,"  he  proclaimed  himself  innocent  of 
the  accusations  brought  against  him.  Then  he  kneeled  down, 
and,  having  prayed  in  silence,  he  gave  the  signal,  the  lifting 
up  of  his  hand.  The  knife  descended.  Archibald  Campbell  of 
Argyll  was  with  his  Master  Christ. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SHORT  MAN  WHO  COULD  NOT  BOW. 

ONE  of  John  Bunyan's  Minor  Prophets  is  Mr.  Standfast, 
When  the  Pilgrims  come  on  him,  they  and  he  are  near 
the  termination  of  their  journey.  In  the  Enchanted  Ground, 
"  one  of  the  last  refuges  that  the  enemy  has,"  they  find  their 
new  comrade  on  his  knees,  speaking  earnestly  to  One  who 
is  above.  He  has  been  tempted  by  Madam  Bubble,  who  has 
offered  to  make  him  great  and  happy;  "she  is  never  weary 
of  commending  her  commodities,"  says  Greatheart  the  guide. 
Not  until  Mr.  Standfast  gave  himself  to  wrestling  with  God 
did  the  "  tall  comely  dame,"  with  her  swarthy  complexion, 
and  a  smile  at  the  end  of  every  sentence,  and  a  great  purse  at 
her  side  into  which  her  fingers  were  perpetually  straying,  go 
her  ways  and  leave  him  victor  on  the  field. 

Among  the  Covenanters  James  Guthrie  is  Mr.  Standfast's 
counterpart.  The  son  of  the  Laird  of  Guthrie  in  Forfarshire, 
he  might  have  claimed  Madam  Bubble's  treasures.  His  father 
coveted  Episcopal  preferment  for  him,  and  at  first  his  own 
wishes  ran  the  same  courtly  road;  in  his  youth  he  was 
"  prelatic  and  strong  for  the  ceremonies."  There  was  one  of 
his  Bishop's  daughters,  too,  whose  face  stole  into  his  boyish 
heart,  and  he  would  joyfully  have  been  her  lover  and  knight. 
But  other  transports  were  moving  him  soon.  He  went  from 
Brechin  Grammar  School  to  St.  Andrews,  where  he  gained 
repute  for  scholarship,  and  was  made  regent,  or  professor, 
of  philosophy.  And  in  the  College  cloisters  his  soul  awoke 
no  less  than  his  mind.  Samuel  llutherfurd's  friendship  was 
partly  responsible  for  the  change ;  and  the  weekly  meetings 
which  teachers  and  students  held  for  prayer,  where  "  Christ 


THE  SHORT  MAN  WHO  COULD  NOT  BOW       71 

was  in  the  midst,  their  Friend,"  did  the  rest.  When  James 
Guthrie  left  the  University,  it  was  to  accept  a  call  to  a  humble 
Presbyterian  church.  He  had  chosen  the  path  which  should 
lead  him,  not  to  a  mitre,  but  to  a  crown  of  sharp  cactus  thorns. 
"  I  am  not  ashamed  to  give  glory  to  God,"  he  told  the  Parlia- 
ment two  months  before  he  died,  "  that,  until  the  year  1638,  I 
was  treading  other  steps ;  and  the  Lord  did  then  graciously 
recover  me  out  of  the  snare  of  Prelacy,  Ceremonies,  and  the 
Service  Book."  Mr.  Standfast  had  shaken  off  the  allurements 
of  the  Enchanted  Ground. 

Just  before  he  was  ordained,  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
showing  what  side  he  had  espoused.  He  signed  the  National 
Covenant.  The  act  had  a  portentous  accompaniment.  On  his 
way  to  inscribe  his  name,  he  encountered  the  town's  hangman, 
"  which  did  move  him  somewhat,  and  made  him  walk  up  and 
down  a  little  before  he  went  forward."  There  was  in  him,  as 
in  the  best  men  of  his  age,  a  touch  of  old-world  credulousness. 
This  was  a  prophecy,  he  said  to  his  beating  heart.  But,  let 
the  issues  be  what  they  might,  there  was  no  thought  of 
swerving.  With  the  vision  of  death  in  his  eyes,  he  wrote  his 
autograph. 

He  was  minister  of  Christ's  Gospel  for  two-and-twenty 
years,  the  time  being  divided  between  his  two  charges  of 
Lauder  and  Stirling.  By  1650,  he  had  transferred  his  home 
from  the  Berwickshire  village  to  the  town  which  is  "  the  grey 
bulwark  of  the  North."  It  is  with  Stirling  that  we  associate 
Guthrie's  name.  Here  he  spoke  those  sermons  which  "  proved 
him  a  great  master  of  reason."  Here  he  lived  out  that 
character  whose  Christianity  was  never  blurred  and  vague. 
Busy  as  he  was  in  the  government  of  the  Church,  James 
Cowie,  his  precentor  and  beadle  and  amanuensis,  maintained 
that  he  kept  his  personal  religion  as  newborn  as  if  "  he  had 
been  but  a  young  convert " ;  and  is  it  not  a  tribute  to  be 
envied?  Nothing  filled  this  fichis  Acliates  with  deeper  awe 
than  the  prayers  of  his  master  at  family  worship.  They 
chased  and  seized  and  condemned  every  besetting  iniquity; 
and  the  listener  felt  that  he  was  himself  being  exposed  and 
scourged.     At  last  he  could  endure  the  poignant  slings   and 


72  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

arrows  no  longer.  "  Tell  me  freely,"  he  begged,  "  in  what  I 
have  grieved  you."  But  James  Guthrie  disabused  him.  It 
was  his  own  wicked  heart,  the  minister  said,  which  he  was 
humiliating,  and  they  were  his  own  errors  which  he  tracked 
with  the  sleuth-hounds  of  self-scrutiny.  It  is  an  incident 
which  casts  the  vividest  light  on  the  strength  of  his  con- 
victions of  sin,  and  on  his  intimacy  with  the  abysses  of  the 
soul.  Once  again  we  think  of  Mr.  Standfast,  importuning  for 
his  life. 

The  manse  at  Stirling  was  an  ecdesiola  Dei,  if  one  may 
steal  Melanchthon's  Latin — a  little  church  of  God.  We  can 
cite  another  witness  to  the  fact  besides  James  Cowie.  To  the 
minister  and  his  wife — for  Guthrie  had  won  a  better  help- 
mate than  the  Bishop's  daughter  after  wliom  his  green  love 
hankered — Isabel  Dougal  was  maidservant,  a  maidservant  who 
was  an  "  elect  lady  "  also.  She  had  much  to  relate  in  after  years 
of  her  experiences.  Once  her  master  caught  her  contradicting 
her  mistress.  "  Isabel,"  he  said,  "  I  thought  you  had  learned 
that  which  is  enjoined  you  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  Hot  answering 
again  "  ;  and  the  reproof  did  its  work.  No  weak  place  could 
she  detect  in  Mr.  Guthrie's  armour,  unless  it  were  his  careless- 
ness about  money,  an  infirmity  with  which  many  saints  have 
been  touched.  "  My  Heart,"  he  would  say  to  Mrs.  Guthrie, 
"  I  am  going  a  journey  on  the  affairs  of  the  Church,  and 
you  must  get  me  fifty  merks  " ;  though  where  the  silver  merks 
were  to  come  from  neither  mistress  nor  maid  could  divine.  It 
is  heartsome  reading  that,  when  Isabel  and  the  precentor  were 
married,  Guthrie  insisted,  gentleman  that  he  was,  that  he 
must  give  the  bride  away.  And  very  touching  is  the  ultimate 
record  of  his  affection  for  those  true  helpers.  In  the  Tolbooth 
James  Cowie  was  writing  as  his  clerk.  "  I  have  one  other 
letter,"  the  prisoner  said,  "  for  choice  Christian  friends, 
although  I  know  not  who  they  are."  The  secretary  set  down 
the  glowing  sentences;  and  the  mystery  flashed  on  their 
author's  mind.  "  James ! "  he  cried,  "  it  is  to  your  wife  and 
you  that  I  must  send  this  letter."  Surely  an  aroma  of  the 
better  country  haunted  ever  afterwards  the  latest  bequest  of 
the  man  these  two  revered. 


JAMES  GUTHKIE  S  CHAIK. 


THE  SHORT  MAN  WHO  COULD  NOT  BOW   73 

Everything  in  the  Stirling  liome  is  "  holy,  happy,  healthy," 
as  the  good  Silurist  portrays  the  home  above.  There  was  a 
time  when,  in  one  of  the  rooms,  James  Guthrie  lay  at  the 
gates  of  death.  His  attendant  was  at  the  bedside,  and  the 
sick  man  bade  him  read  the  ninth  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans.  But  at  the  words,  /  will  have  mercy  on  whom  I  will 
have  mercy,  the  listener  burst  into  tears.  "  I  'have  nothing  else 
to  lippen  to,"  he  said — no  sentence  to  lean  upon,  so  stable 
as  this  pronouncement  of  Sovereignty  and  Love.  In  those 
anxious  days  his  friends  literally  prayed  him  back  to  life. 
Most  peremptory  among  them  was  Johnston  of  Wariston. 
"  Lord,"  he  wept,  "  Thou  knowest  the  Church  cannot  want 
him." 

Wariston  was  right.  The  Church  could  not  spare  the 
leader  in  Synod  and  Assembly.  He  drew  up  a  shrewd  little 
treatise  on  Elders  and  Deacons,  which  sometimes  has  been 
ascribed  in  mistake  to  his  cousin,  the  writer  of  Tlce  Christian's 
Great  Interest.  His  hand,  too,  penned  the  pamphlet  on  The 
CaiLses  of  the  Lord's  Wrath  against  Scotland,  which  was  to 
furnish  his  opponents  with  a  weapon  they  would  use  to  his 
hurt.  But  he  carried  an  inexhaustible  sweetness  of  temper 
into  the  debates  of  the  Kirk.  If  he  found  any  heat  of  passion 
bubbling  up,  and  the  patience  of  Christ  being  forgotten,  he 
would  say,  "We  must  give  over  now."  Stoutest  of  the 
Protesters  as  he  was,  he  had  rather  lose  the  battle  in  logic 
than  offend  against  the  royal  law.  Beneath  the  life  spent  in 
a  hundred  conflicts,  there  lay  and  brooded  and  sang  a  spirit 
attuned  to  melody. 

It  is  time,  however,  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
Standfast  in  his  soldier's  dress:  Mr.  "Sickerfoot"  was  the 
very  name  the  Malignants  of  Stirling  devised  for  him.  Some 
episodes  in  his  career — episodes  ten  years  older  than  tlie  Res- 
toration— provide  us  with  unanswerable  proof  of  his  boldness. 

We  see  him,  at  eight  of  a  May  morning,  in  company  with 
Robert  Trail,  going  by  order  of  the  Assembly  to  the  Tolbooth, 
to  speak  to  the  Marquis  of  Montrose.  It  is  the  proud 
chieftain's  time  of  dolour,  and  to-morrow  is  his  execution  day. 
But  he  is  as  intrepid  as  he  has  always  been.     Will  James 


74  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Guthrie  quail  before  him  ?  Far  from  that.  He  will  do  his 
duty,  without  harshness  and  without  compromise.  He  tells 
Montrose  that  his  natural  temper  is  "  too  aspiring  and  lofty  " ; 
that  he  did  wrong  to  enlist  Irish  rebels  among  his  followers ; 
that  he  ought  not  to  have  violated  the  Covenant.  And  the 
Marquis,  being  a  poet  and  a  scholar,  is  debonair  and  eloquent. 
He  mixes  his  discourse  with  "many  Latin  apothegms."  He 
argues  with  the  ministers  that  they  are  chargeable  with  the 
death  of  Charles  the  First.  "Error  is  infinite" — that  is  his 
sententious  axiom.  "  I  am  very  sorry  that  any  actions  of 
mine  have  been  offensive  to  the  Church  of  Scotland " :  it  is 
the  one  concession  which  he  makes.  There  must  have  been 
yearning  and  regret  in  Guthrie's  heart,  when  he  took  good- 
bye of  the  imperious  cavalier. 

Or  let  us  look  at  him  as  he  deals  with  the  Earl  of 
Middleton.  There  is  a  plot  to  coax  the  younger  Charles  to 
forsake  the  Committee  of  Estates,  and  to  trust  himself  to  the 
easy-going  soldier  and  his  friends.  The  prince  is  willing 
enough;  but  the  conspiracy  is  unmasked.  Then  the  Com- 
mission of  Assembly  appoints  the  minister  of  Stirling  to 
read  in  his  own  church  sentence  of  excommunication  on 
Middleton.  Going  to  worship  on  the  Sabbath,  he  is  met 
by  a  stranger  who  hands  him  a  letter.  It  contains  a 
request  that  the  excommunication  may  be  delayed.  The  bell 
has  rung  out  its  last  note,  and  the  minister  can  scarcely 
decide  how  to  act.  "  Dear  Heart,"  his  wife  counsels,  "  what 
the  Lord  gives  you  clearness  to  do,  that  do,"  And,  after 
sermon,  the  embarrassment  has  vanished.  Let  whoever  will 
be  angry,  the  Assembly's  verdict,  Guthrie  feels,  must  be 
proclaimed.  Proclaimed  it  is,  and  the  country  learns  of 
it,  and  John  Middleton  never  forgives  the  man  who  has 
denounced  him. 

And  he  crosses  swords  with  Charles  himself.  Being 
unable  to  bow  his  head  in  the  house  of  Eimmon,  he  has 
preached  against  the  Public  Resolutions.  The  King  summons 
him,  and  his  colleague,  David  Bennet,  who  is  of  one  mind 
with  him,  to  Perth,  where  in  the  days  before  Worcester  he 
holds  his  court.     But  if  ho  fancies  that  he  will  overawe  so 


THE  SHORT  MAN  WHO  COULD  NOT  BOW       75 

undaunted  a  tighter,  he  learns  his  miscalculation  immediately. 
James  Guthrie  is  King's  man  to  the  core  of  his  nature,  and 
will  render  to  Caesar  every  penny  that  is  Csesar's.  But,  first 
and  last  and  midst,  he  is  Christ's  man.  He  informs  his  prince 
that,  while  he  owns  his  authority  in  civil  affairs,  he  must  not 
meddle  with  matters  of  religion.  It  is  Melville  risen  to  life 
once  more. 

Most  notable  of  all,  was  his  encounter  with  Cromwell. 
It  was  April  in  1651,  and  the  Lord  General  was  in  Glasgow. 
There,  "  on  Sunday  forenoon,"  as  Principal  Baillie  reports, 
Oliver  heard  "Mr.  Kobert  Eamsay  preach  a  very  honest 
sermon  "  ;  and,  in  the  afternoon,  the  commander  and  his  staff 
still  being  auditors,  Mr.  John  Carstares  lectured,  and  Mr. 
James  Durham  "gave  a  fair  enough  testimony  against  the 
Sectaries " — the  iron  warrior  and  his  friends  seated  in  the 
pews  of  the  High  Kirk.  The  Englishmen  had  their  own 
thoughts  about  the  plain-spoken  theology;  and,  next  day, 
Cromwell  invited  the  ministers  to  a  conference.  Guthrie  and 
Patrick  Gillespie  were  the  advocates  of  the  Covenanters ;  the 
Puritan  leader  himself,  with  Major-General  Lambert,  upheld 
the  tenets  of  the  mailed  and  helmeted  saints.  One  longs  to 
read  the  minutes  of  the  discussion ;  but  the  record  has  not 
survived.  "  We  had  no  disadvantage  in  the  thing,"  Baillie 
asserts  with  Presbyterian  pertinacity ;  but  one  of  his  rivals  is 
as  positive  that  victory  lay  with  the  other  party — "  Sure  I  am 
there  was  no  such  weight  in  their  arguments  as  might  in  the 
least  discourage  us."  This  is  certain,  that  Oliver  kept  the 
figure  of  one  of  his  antagonists  enshrined  in  his  recollection. 
When  he  told  the  story,  or  when  James  Guthrie's  name  was 
mentioned,  he  had  his  significant  epithet  for  the  preacher. 
"  That  short  man  who  could  not  bow "  was  what  he  called 
him. 

Thus  steadily  Mr.  Sickerfoot  walked  to  the  grim  consum- 
mation of  his  pilgrimage.  A  man  of  his  calibre  could  not 
look  for  any  favours,  when  the  reign  of  riot  and  misrule  was 
inaugurated.  He  had  never  wished  to  escape  the  confessor's 
garland ;  he  hungered  for  it  rather.  Once,  in  Stirling,  he  was 
talking   with   some    brother  -  ministers   about   "  predominant 


76  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

sins  " ;  and  he  owned  that  his  was  a  too  "  masterful  desire  to 
suffer  a  public  and  violent  death  for  Christ  and  His  cause." 
The  swift  exodus,  he  said,  was  greatly  better  than  protracted 
sickness.  Imprisoned  by  disease,  a  man  might  lose  his  senses, 
and  might  renounce  the  vigour  of  his  trust.  But  from  the 
scaffold,  if  he  was  reproached  for  the  Name's  sake,  he 
"  stepped  into  eternity  with  the  utmost  distinctness  and  in 
the  immediate  exercise  of  prayer  and  faith."  Was  it  a 
"  predominant  sin  " — this  solicitude  for  the  bitterness  and  the 
blessedness  of  the  Cross  ?  Only  the  suppliant  who  knew  its 
intensity  could  brand  it  so ;  and,  too  soon  for  those  who  drew 
strength  from  his  communion,  his  prayer  was  fulfilled,  and 
from  the  gallows  he  leaped  in  a  moment  to  the  breast  of 
God. 

At  the  close  of  August  in  the  Eestoration  year,  he,  with 
some  of  his  spiritual  kinsfolk,  drew  up  an  address  to  the 
King.  They  prayed  for  the  safety  of  His  Majesty's  person. 
With  bowed  knees  and  bended  affections,  they  besought  him 
to  employ  his  power  for  the  conservation  of  the  Eeformed 
religion.  They  told  him  of  their  anxiety  that  he  should 
prosecute  the  ends  of  the  Covenants  he  had  sworn.  "  It  is 
the  desire  of  our  souls,"  they  concluded,  "  that  your  Majesty 
may  be  like  unto  David,  a  man  after  God's  own  heart ;  like 
unto  Solomon,  of  an  understanding  heart  to  discern  betwixt 
good  and  bad ;  like  unto  Jehoshaphat,  whose  heart  was  lifted 
up  in  the  ways  of  the  Lord ;  like  unto  Josias,  who  was  of 
a  tender  heart,  and  did  humble  himself  before  God."  The 
annals  of  Britain  would  have  been  less  gleeful  and  sprightly, 
but  more  august,  if  the  King's  ambitions  had  liarmonised  in 
one  detail  with  the  purposes  of  this  little  band  of  liis  Scottish 
subjects. 

But  Charles  did  not  dream  of  a  theocracy.  Before  many 
hours  had  gone,  the  ten  preachers,  and  one  of  the  two  laymen, 
who  framed  the  exacting  and  ethereal  address,  were  prisoners 
in  Edinburgh  Castle.  James  Guthrie  was  never  to  be  free 
again.  He  was  transferred  to  Stirling,  and,  afterwards,  to 
Dundee;  and  then  was  brought  back  to  Edinburgh;  but  his 
confinement  was  not  once  relaxed.     Sharp  hated  the  whole- 


THE  SHORT  MAN  WHO  COULD  NOT  BOW       77 

hearted  Protester,  and  Middleton  was  eager  to  punish  the  man 
who  had  excommunicated  him.  The  indictment  charged 
Guthrie  with  the  authorship  of  The  Causes  of  the  Lord's 
Wrath,  with  writing  the  petition  which  led  to  his  apprehen- 
sion, with  denying  the  King's  power  over  the  Church,  and 
with  utterances  which  savoured  of  treason.  The  net  was 
drawn  fast  round  the  victim. 

In  February  1661,  and  again  in  April,  he  spoke  in  his 
defence  before  the  Drunken  Parliament.  One  of  his  lawyers 
— was  it  Cunningham  or  Nisbet  ? — bore  frank  witness  to  the 
skill  he  displayed.  Not  merely  did  he  outwit  the  advocates 
in  questions  of  divinity,  but  he  surpassed  them  in  their  own 
fields;  he  might  almost  have  been  President  of  the  Court. 
But  better  than  his  cleverness  was  his  courage.  "  Throughout 
the  whole  course  of  my  life,"  he  boasted  humbly,  "  I  have 
studied  to  be  serious,  and  not  to  deal  with  a  slack  hand  in 
what  I  did  look  upon  as  my  duty."  "  My  Lord,"  he  said,  as 
he  drew  the  April  speech  to  its  conclusion,  "  my  conscience  I 
cannot  submit ;  but  this  old  crazy  body  and  mortal  flesh  I  do 
submit,  to  do  with  it  whatsoever  you  will,  whether  by  death 
or  banishment  or  imprisonment  or  anything  else."  My  con- 
science I  cannot  submit:  it  is  the  creed  in  five  words  of  all 
good  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Iliad  of  the  martyrs  in  a 
nutshell. 

In  a  thin  house  sentence  was  pronounced ;  for,  after  they 
lieard  him,  members  slipped  away,  unwilling  to  be  responsible 
for  his  bloodshedding.  He  was  to  be  hanged  at  the  Cross  on 
Saturday,  the  1st  of  June;  his  head  was  to  be  fixed  on  the 
Netherbow ;  his  estate  was  to  be  confiscated :  so  the  decision 
ran.  While  the  Clerk  was  entering  it  on  his  parchments,  they 
put  him  out  from  the  chamber,  among  the  rude  pikemen 
crowded  at  the  door ;  but  they  could  not  mar  his  tranquillity ; 
he  thought  he  had  never  enjoyed  more  of  Christ's  consolations 
than  then.  Soon  he  was  recalled,  to  hear  the  doom  ;  and,  when 
James  Cowie  saw  him  next,  his  master  had  a  sort  of  majesty 
about  him,  and  his  features  shone,  as  Stephen's  did,  when  the 
Pharisees  stoned  him  and  "  God's  glory  smote  him  on  the  face." 
Guthrie  had  his  wish,  and  was  going  home  to  his  own  abode 


78  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

by  the  straightest  path.  Everything  seemed  to  befriend  him. 
He  told  his  wife  that  he  was  more  fortunate  than  the  Marquis 
of  Argyll ;  "  for  my  lord  was  beheaded,  but  I  am  to  be  hanged 
on  a  Tree  as  my  Saviour  was."  One  is  sorrier  for  wife  than 
for  husband.  "  I '  but  trouble  you,"  she  wept  as  she  went 
away ;  "  I  must  now  part  from  you."  And  he  replied, 
already  a  tenant  of  the  Heavenlies,  "  Henceforth  I  know 
no  one  after  the  flesh."  He  panted  to  be  clear  of  the 
happiest  entanglements,  and  to  answer  the  welcome  of  his 
Eedeemer. 

On  the  Friday  evening  he  dictated  a  number  of  letters, 
with  Eobert  Wodrow's  father  for  his  scribe.  He  signed  and 
sealed  them  himself,  the  seal  bearing  the  family  crest;  but 
instantly  he  turned  it  round,  and  drew  it  over  the  new-made 
impression,  and  thus  obliterated  the  heraldry.  "  I  have  no 
more  to  do  with  coats  of  arms,"  he  explained.  He  supped 
heartily,  though  generally  he  was  very  abstemious ;  and  then 
he  slept  an  unbroken  sleep,  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
when  he  sat  up,  and  poured  out  his  longings  in  prayer.  The 
sunlight  came  streaming  in,  and  James  Cowie  asked  how  he 
did.  "  Very  well,"  he  answered ;  "  this  is  the  day  which  the 
Lord  hath  made ;  let  us  he  glad  and  rejoice  in  it"  And  now 
"  the  best  was  at  hand,"  as  a  friend  had  written — now,  while 
his  adversaries  "got  the  foil,"  he  was  to  "get  the  victory." 
He  would  have  walked  unbound  to  the  gallows ;  but  they  tied 
his  hands,  as  if  he  were  a  common  thief.  Along  with  him, 
to  share  his  death,  went  Captain  William  Go  van,  the  blunt 
Protester  soldier.  Two  or  three  steps  up  the  ladder,  where 
he  could  be  seen  easily  by  the  crowd,  Guthrie  halted  to  make 
his  last  speech.  "  I  durst  not  redeem  my  life  with  the  loss 
of  my  integrity,"  he  said  ;  "  I  did  judge  it  better  to  suffer  than 
to  sin."  And,  again :  "  My  corruptions  have  been  strong  and 
many,  and  have  made  me  a  sinner  in  all  things,  yea,  even  in 
following  my  duty ;  and  therefore  righteousness  have  I  none 
of  my  own.  But  I  do  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners,  whereof  I  am  chief."  And,  yet  again : 
"  I  take  God  to  record,  I  would  not  exchange  this  scaffold  with 
the  palace  or  mitre  of  the  greatest  prelate  in  Britain."     There 


THE  SHORT  MAN  WHO  COULD  NOT  BOW   79 

was  a  dignity  about  his  features  as  he  spoke,  and  onlookers 
thought  they  had  "  not  seen  more  of  God  at  the  most  solemn 
Communion."  When  at  last  the  executioner  was  ready, 
Jaraes  Guthrie's  voice  was  heard  once  more.  "Art  Thou 
not  from  everlasting,"  he  called  in  far-carrying  tones,  "  0 
Lord  my  God,  my  Holy  One  ?  I  shall  not  die."  Then,  just 
before  the  end,  he  lifted  the  napkin  from  his  face,  and 
cried,  "  The  Covenants,  the  Covenants  shall  yet  be  Scotland's 
reviving ! " 

"  Now  there  was  a  great  calm  at  that  time  in  the  Eiver ; 
wherefore  Mr.  Standfast,  when  he  was  about  halfway  in, 
stood  a  while  and  talked  to  his  companions.  '  I  see  my- 
self at  the  end  of  my  journey,'  he  said  ;  '  my  toilsome  days 
are  ended.  I  have  formerly  lived  by  hearsay  and  faith ; 
but  now  I  go  where  I  shall  live  by  sight,  and  shall  be 
with  Him  in  whose  company  I  delight  myself.  I  have 
loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spoken  of,  and,  wherever  I  have  seen 
tlie  print  of  His  shoe  in  the  earth,  there  I  have  coveted  to 
set  my  foot  too.  He  has  held  me,  and  I  have  kept  me  from 
mine  iniquities ;  yea,  my  steps  hath  He  strengthened  in  His 
way.'" 

The  mutilated  body  was  piously  cared  for.  While  some 
friends  were  dressing  it  in  one  of  the  town  churches,  a  young 
gentleman  came  in — George  Stirling  his  name  was  found  to  be 
— and  poured  on  it  a  bottle  of  rich  perfume ;  and  the  place, 
like  Simon's  house  in  Bethany,  was  filled  with  the  odour  of 
the  ointment.  "  God  bless  you,  sir,  for  your  labour  of  love  !  " 
one  of  the  ministering  ladies  said.  And  as  for  the  head  up 
on  tlie  arch  between  the  High  Street  and  the  Canongate,  there 
is  a  pathetic  memory  attaching  to  it.  -Not  that  weird  legend 
of  the  ruddy  drops  of  blood,  which  it  let  fall  on  the  Earl  of 
Middleton's  coach,  and  which  all  the  nobleman's  acids  could 
not  wash  away.  But  the  homelier  tale  of  little  William 
Guthrie,  the  martyr's  four-year-old  boy,  in  later  years  "  a  most 
serious  seeker  of  God,"  who  must  run  out  to  stand  and  study 
his  father's  face  high  on  the  city  port,  and  then  would  return 
and  tell  his  mother  what  he  had  been  doing,  and  forthwith 
would  lock  himself  into  a  room  from  which  all  her   efforts 


8o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

could  not  draw  him  for  many  hours.  It  was  a  sore  and  heavy 
thin"  to  be  a  Covenanter's  child:  but,  for  Mr.  Sickerfoot's 
Willie,  there  was  no  head  in  the  wide  world  so  wreathed  with 
beauty  as  the  head  which  the  soldiers  had  fastened  on  the 
Netherbow. 


JAMES   GUXniUE,    MIXISTEK  OF   STIRLING. 


CHAPTER   VI.       ' 

SHARP  OF  THAT  ILK. 

LOKD  MIDDLETON  and  the  nobles  who  abetted  him  were 
not  the  only  foes  of  the  Church  in  the  months  that 
succeeded  the  Kestoration.  Bad  as  they  were,  they  were  not 
the  worst  foes.  They  had  for  prompter  a  man  about  whom  a 
modern  historian  has  written  that,  "  in  the  most  comprehensive 
sense  of  the  word,  he  was  a  knave,  pur  sang  " — a  man  whose 
life  of  calculating  meanness  happily  has  few  parallels.  "  Sharp 
of  that  Ilk,"  Cromwell  denominated  him  in  a  shrewd  phrase : 
Sharp,  of  the  clan  and  family  of  the  Sharps;  Sharp,  whose 
name  corresponded  with  his  nature,  cunning,  clever  in  the 
baser  forms  of  cleverness,  owning  only  "  as  good  a  heart  as  can 
be  made  out  of  brains,"  governed  consistently  by  self-interest 
and  self-regard.  Oliver  was  a  discerner  of  spirits.  He  saw 
into  James  Sharp's  soul  as  he  saw  into  James  Guthrie's ;  and 
he  distrusted  the  one  as  thoroughly  as  he  honoured  the  other. 

Probably  no  one,  in  the  long  story  of  the  Scottish  Church, 
bears  an  uglier  repute ;  and  the  scrutiny  of  scholars  has  rather 
blackened  than  brightened  his  record.  His  very  handwriting, 
as  it  may  be  seen  in  the  hundreds  of  letters  he  has  left,  is 
"  small,  paltry,  niggling,  and  exceptionally  annoying " ;  his 
style  of  composition  is  self-conceited  and  pedantic.  We  have 
his  portrait,  painted  by  Sir  Peter  Lely ;  none  of  his  brother- 
Presbyters  had  the  gold  which  could  procure  such  immortality. 
The  face  is  not  repulsive;  it  has  not  the  bold  and  coarse 
brutality  of  Lauderdale's.  But  it  is  not  a  spiritual  face.  The 
forehead  is  low.  The  eyes  are  furtive  and  yet  alert ;  nothing 
escapes  them ;  they  have  little  pity  and  little  patience ;  one 
does  not  associate  them  with  "  droppings  of  warm  tears."     The 


82  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

lips  are  thin  and  firmly  closed.  If  the  features  do  not  excite 
actual  disrelish,  neither  do  they  attract.  They  remind  us  of 
the  man  of  the  world  much  more  than  of  the  ambassador  of 
Christ. 

Sharp  was  born  about  the  year  1618,  in  Banffshire,  where 
his  father  was  Sheriff-clerk,  his  mother  being  "  a  gentlewoman 
of  the  name  of  Leslie."  Neither  at  school  nor  at  the  University 
was  he  in  any  way  distinguished ;  his  intellect  never  climbed 
very  high  or  plunged  very  deep.  James  Kirkton,  in  his  Secret 
and  True  History,  preserves  a  curious  tale  of  his  college  days, 
perhaps  apocryphal,  certainly  coloured  by  the  hatred  he 
aroused  in  later  years.  In  bed  one  night  with  his  comrade,  he 
fell  into  loud  laughter,  which  continued  until  the  other  awoke 
him  and  asked  why  he  was  so  merry.  He  had  been  dreaming, 
he  answered,  that  the  Earl  of  Crawford  appointed  him  minister 
of  Crail — the  height  of  his  ambition  in  his  wholesomer  youth. 
Again  he  fell  asleep,  and  again  ho  lauglied,  more  loudly  than 
before ;  and  now,  when  his  companion  recalled  him  to  the 
solid  earth,  he  was  offended,  for,  said  he,  "  I  thought  I  was 
in  a  paradise,  because  the  King  had  made  me  Archbishop  of 
St.  Andrews."  "  Then,"  rejoined  his  fellow,  "  I  hope  you  will 
remember  old  friends."  But  soon  he  was  dreaming  once  more, 
and  to  different  purpose ;  for  he  "  wept  most  lamentably  for  a 
long  time."  Being  asked  the  cause  of  the  alteration,  he  gave 
a  reply  which  was  tragic  enough.  "I  dreamed  that  I  was 
driving  in  a  coach  to  hell,  and  that  very  fast."  "  What  way 
he  drove,"  adds  Kirkton  with  grim  brevity,  "  I  shall  not 
say." 

Uncertainty  hangs  over  his  movements  after  he  was  done 
with  the  University.  Apparently  he  was  absent  from 
Scotland  for  a  while,  probably  in  London ;  because,  when  he 
returned  to  the  metropolis,  he  was  familiar  with  its  streets 
and  townsfolk.  It  is  unlikely  that  he  swore  the  Covenant  in 
1G38 ;  but,  if  he  felt  any  aversion  to  subscribing  the  stringent 
deed,  he  managed  to  disguise  it ;  when  we  meet  him  next,  it 
is,  as  his  dream  predicted,  in  the  church  and  manse  of  the 
Fifeshire  village  of  Crail.  One  fears  that  the  breath  of  heaven 
did  not  blow  through  his  sermons.     His  letters,  except  wlien 


SHARP  OF  THAT  ILK  83 

he  denounces  an  opponent,  are  grey  and  hard  as  the  whinstone 
and  cheerless  as  "  the  cold  light  of  stars."  He  never  was  an 
Evangelical ;  he  never  was  vanquished  by  the  Cross ;  he  had 
nothing  more  fundamental  to  recommend  than  those  deeds  of 
the  laio  by  which,  an  apostle  says,  a  man  is  not  justified.  "  Mr 
Warner  tells  me,"  Wodrow  relates,  "that  he  was,  before 
Archbishop  Sharp's  death,  in  conversation  with  two  ladies  of 
good  sense  and  very  serious.  They  told  him  that  the  Bishop, 
when  he  and  they  were  talking  about  religion,  and  one  in  the 
company  said  somewhat  of  the  insufficiency  of  blamelessness 
and  morality  for  salvation,  returned  the  reply,  '  Be  you  good 
moralists,  and  I'll  warrant  you ! ' "  Our  hearts  are  forced  to 
compassionate  the  parishioners  of  Crail. 

From  the  Analecta,  too,  a  second  anecdote  may  be  gleaned, 
which  brings  another  impeachment  against  him.  In  the 
manse  of  Kingsbarns,  at  no  great  distance  from  Crail,  lived  a 
young  lady  whom  Sharp  wished  to  win  for  wife.  But,  one 
Sabbath,  being  desirous  to  listen  to  a  sermon  from  his  lips,  and 
equally  desirous  that  she  should  not  be  recognised,  Margaret 
Bruce  contrived  to  veil  her  genuine  self,  and  took  the  road 
that  ran  to  Crail.  Her  wooer  preached  so  well  that  all  her 
hesitancies  were  swept  away,  and  she  resolved  to  be  his  bride. 
But  between  cup  and  lip  much  may  intervene.  For,  going 
soon  after  into  her  father's  study,  she  found  on  the  table  a 
volume  of  sermons,  freshly  come  from  England ;  and,  turning 
its  pages,  she  saw  that  one  was  based  on  the  text  which  she 
had  heard  James  Sharp  expound  with  such  ingenuity.  She 
read  it,  and  discovered  that  it  was  the  original  which  he  had 
copied  with  a  faithfulness  too  literal  and  undeviating.  He 
stood  before  her  for  what  he  was,  no  individual  explorer  of  the 
realm  of  truth,  but  a  mere  plagiarist.  "  Which  providence 
opened  her  eyes  so  clearly  that,  when  he  came  again  to  renew 
his  proposal,  she  iitterly  rejected  his  offer." 

But  the  clergyman  was  much  away  from  his  parish.  He 
was  a  man  to  whom  the  machinery  and  diplomacy  of  the 
Church  were  more  interesting  than  its  doctrine  and  its  life. 
"  I  remember  you  have  sometimes  merrily  called  me  a 
politician,"  he  wrote  to  Patrick  Drummond  in  the  December 


84  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

of  1660 ;  Hud  JJiummoud's  jest  told  the  truth.     A  politician, 
and  one  who  loved  the  underground  passages  of  politics  more 
than  the  breezier  uplands,  Sharp  of  that  Ilk  was  from  first  to 
last.     He  fought  for  the  Eesolutioners ;  but  we  shall  wrong 
his  brethren  if   we   conceive   them   animated  by  his   spirit ; 
David  Dickson  and  Eobert  Douglas  were  severed  from  him 
like    east    from   west.      He   was   simply   their   indefatigable 
agent,  a  schemer  with  endless  perseverance  and  secrecy  and 
savoir  /aire.     Many  a  time,  and  for  months  at  a  stretch,  Crail 
would  see  nothing  of  him ;  he  was  busily  occupied  in  London. 
Thus   it   happened   in    1657   and  1658,  when  Wariston  and 
Patrick   Gillespie    and    James   Guthrie    enjoyed    Cromwell's 
regard,  and  when  "  the  great  instrument  of  God  to  cross  their 
evill  designes,"  says  Baillie  in  one  of  his  letters  to  his  cousin, 
"  has  been  that  very  worthie,  pious,  wise,  and  diligent  young 
man,  Mr.  James  Sharp."     Poor  Baillie  !  he  thinks  it  necessary 
to  counsel  so  gracious  an  emissary  to  supplement  the  harm- 
lessness  of  the  dove  with  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent.     "  I  pray 
God  help  you  and  guide  you ;  you  had  need  of  a  long  spoon ; 
trust  no  words  nor  faces ;  for  all  men  are  liars."     The  advice 
was   superfluous,  and   the    Church's   messenger   returned   to 
Edinburgh  to  report  a  substantial  victory.     "  He  had  gotten 
all  the  designes  of  the  exceeding  busie  and  bold  Kemonstrants 
defeat ;  and  the  Protector  had  dismissed  him  with  very  good 
words,  assuring  he  should  be  loath  to  grant  anything  to  our 
prejudice."     And,  therefore,  "we  blessed   God   that,   by  Mr. 
Sharp's  labours,  was  keeped  off  us  for  a  tyme  a  much  feared 
storme."     The  blindness  of  Christian  men  is  occasionally  ex- 
cessive.    And  nothing  helps  it  more  potently  than  the  false 
and  unworthy  heat  of  party  zeal. 

The  moment  for  Sharp's  supreme  treachery,  and  for  the 
bitter  awakening  of  his  friends,  was  at  hand.  When  it  was 
evident  that  events  in  England  preluded  the  reinstatement  of 
the  Stuarts, "  our  caynd  honist  Sherp  frend  " — the  characterisa- 
tion and  the  spelling  are  those  of  the  Earl  of  Eothes — was 
again  sent  up  to  London  as  envoy  of  the  Kirk.  He  was  to 
take  care  tliat,  when  Charles  did  recross  the  narrow  seas,  it 
should  be  as  a  Covenanted  and  Presbyterian  monarch.     From 


SHARP  OF  THAT  ILK  85 

the  middle  of  February  IGGO  until  long  after  the  King  was  in 
Whitehall,  he  remained  in  the  centre  of  intrigue  and  activity ; 
and  there  were  few  of  the  plots  of  those  hurrying  weeks 
in  which  he  did  not  have  a  finger.  "So  knowing  a  bearer, 
whose  usefulness  in  your  service  sets  him  far  above  my  recom- 
mendation " :  it  was  with  this  benison  that  Lord  Lauderdale 
introduced  him  to  his  royal  master.  But  the  Church  had 
need  of  a  truer  knight.  His  succour  meant  humiliation  and 
calamity  for  the  men  who  confided  in  his  good  faith. 

We  require  no  evidence  to  condemn  him  beyond  that 
which  he  has  himself  supplied.  He  had  three  correspondents 
during  1660  and  1661 ;  and  we  are  allowed  to  read  the 
letters  he  sent  to  them.  The  first  was  Eobert  Douglas,  the 
brave  minister.  The  second  was  Patrick  Drummond,  one  of 
the  Presbyterian  clergymen  in  England.  The  third  was  the 
Earl  of  Middleton.  It  might  be  hard  at  the  time  for  those 
who  hoped  against  hope  to  abjure  their  trusted  agent ;  but,  in 
what  he  says  to  these  three,  there  is  no  difficulty  now  in  tracing 
his  "juggling,  prevarication,  and  betrayal." 

On  the  1st  of  March  1660,  he  writes  Douglas  from  London 
that  "  the  Cavaliers  point  him  out  as  the  Scottish  Presbyter  " ; 
ten  days  later,  that  "Moderate  Episcopacy  is  setting  up  its 
head  " ;  in  the  same  week,  that,  along  with  Calamy  and  Ash, 
the  representatives  of  English  Nonconformity,  he  has  "  convinced 
General  Monck  that  a  Commonwealth  is  unpracticable,"  and 
has  "  beaten  him  off  that  sconce  he  hath  hitherto  maintained." 
When  April  comes,  he  "  sees  not  full  ground  of  hope  that 
Covenant  terms  will  be  rigidly  stuck  to " ;  by  the  middle  of 
the  month,  he  is  sure  that  "  the  business  of  religion  will  be 
altogether  waived  in  the  treaty  "  with  the  King ;  before  the 
end  of  it,  he  "  smells  that  Moderate  Episcopacy  is  the  fairest 
accommodation."  And,  all  this  while,  Douglas  is  encouraging 
him  to  keep  unshaken  his  loyalty.  "  It  is  best  that  Presbyterian 
government  be  settled  simply ;  for  we  know  by  experience  that 
Moderate  Episcopacy  —  what  can  it  be  other  than  Bishops 
with  cautions  ? — is  the  next  step  to  Episcopal  tyranny,  which 
will  appear  very  soon  above  board  if  that  ground  once  be  laid. 
You  know  the  old  saying,  Ferpetua  dictatura  via  ad  imperium." 


86  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

But  the  wise  words  were  spoken  in  vain.  In  May,  Sharp  was 
over  in  Breda  at  Charles's  court;  and  afterwards  Eobert 
Douglas  confessed  that  now  he  began  to  have  his  suspicions : 
"  The  first  thing  that  gave  me  a  dislike  at  him  was  that,  when 
he  was  in  Holland,  he  wrote  to  me  in  commendation  of  Hyde, 
an  enemy  to  our  nation  and  Presbyterial  government."  Yet 
the  delegate  of  the  Covenanters  continued  to  assert  his  fidelity 
in  unequivocal  terms.  He  told  how,  when  he  met  the  King 
— the  King  "  who  surpasseth  all  ever  I  heard  or  expected  of 
him  " — he  found  him  very  affectionate  to  Scotland,  and  resolved 
not  to  wrong  the  settled  worship  and  discipline  of  the  Church. 
He  assured  his  correspondent  that,  while  Presbytery  was  a  lost 
cause  in  England,  he  could  not  believe  that  the  Service  Book 
was  to  be  forced  on  the  Scots;  "you  know,"  he  added, "  I  am 
against  Episcopacy,  root  and  branch."  Again,  on  the  16th  of 
June,  when  Charles  had  been  three  weeks  in  London,  this  was 
his  diagnosis  of  events :  "  The  present  posture  of  affairs  looks 
like  a  ship  foundered  with  the  waves  from  all  corners,  so  that 
it  is  not  known  what  course  will  be  steered ;  but  discerning 
men  see  that  the  gale  is  like  to  blow  for  the  Prelatic  party ; 
and  those  who  are  sober  will  yield  to  a  Liturgy  and  Moderate 
Episcopacy,  which  they  phrase  to  be  Effectual  Presbytery  ; 
and,  by  this  salvo,  they  think  they  guard  against  breach  of 
Covenant.  But  I  know,"  our  Bayard  asserts,  "  this  purpose  is 
not  pleasing  to  you,  neither  to  me."  And  so  things  went  on, 
until  his  return  to  Scotland  in  autumn,  when  he  carried  with 
him  a  letter  from  the  King,  promising  to  protect  and  defend 
the  Church,  "  as  it  was  settled  by  law."  Some  ambiguity  hung 
about  the  stipulation ;  but  the  ministers  of  Edinburgh  inter- 
preted it  as  their  wishes  impelled,  and  read  it  as  a  gracious 
manifesto  in  vindication  of  the  Covenanted  cause.  "They 
thought  it  not  enough,"  Kirkton  narrates,  "  to  praise  it  in  their 
pulpits,  but  bought  for  it  a  silver  box,  a  shrine  for  such  a 
precious  relic." 

The  letters  to  Patrick  Drummond  take  up  the  tale  after 
Sharp  is  again  in  the  north ;  probably,  although  they  were 
addressed  to  this  Presbyterian  minister,  they  were  intended 
mainly   for   the  eyes   of   Lauderdale,  Secretary  at  Court   for 


SHARP  OF  THAT  ILK  87 

Scottish  business,  and  all-powerful  with  His  Majesty.  In  them 
are  the  same  tones  of  injured  innocency,  the  same  protestations 
that  the  writer  has  not  deflected  by  a  hairsbreadth  from  his 
principles.  "  The  course  of  my  life,  I  bless  the  Lord,  will 
not  give  evidence  of  my  ambition  and  covetousness ;  I  have 
served  the  interests  of  others  more  than  my  own ;  I  never  did 
seek  anything  of  any ;  whatever  lot  I  may  meet  with,  I  scorn 
to  prostitute  my  conscience  and  honesty  to  base  unbecoming 
allurements": — there  surely  speaks  an  unsullied  captain.  If 
his  friend  asks  his  creed  in  a  sentence,  "  well,  I  am  a  Scot  and 
a  Presbyter."  If  he  desires  a  glimpse  of  his  bulwark  and 
fortress,  "  my  fence  is  in  God,  who  knoweth  that  my  regard 
to  my  country  and  this  Kirk  doth  preponder  any  selfish  con- 
sideration." But,  by  and  by,  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart 
discloses  himself  more  freely.  "  I  do  cheyn  my  affection  to 
that  stream  of  providence  which  may  make  it  to  be  well  witli 
the  King,  and  your  master,  my  lord ;  I  am  no  phanatick,  nor 
a  lover  of  their  way  under  whatsoever  refyned  form  " :  the 
accents  of  the  opportunist  rise  to  the  surface  in  such  words. 
Yet  how  weary  he  was  of  logomachies !  If  he  could  not  have 
leave  to  retire  amongst  his  books,  and  to  bewail  there  the  evils 
which  folly  and  pride  brought  on  his  native  land,  then 

Waft  me  from  tlie  harbour-mouth. 
Wild  wind  !     I  seek  a  warmer  sky — 

"  I  must  think  dc  midando  solo,  and  breathing  in  an  aire  where 
I  may  be  without  the  reach  of  the  noyse  and  pressoures  of  the 
confusions  coming."  Ah,  but  we  hear  the  snarl  of  the  tiger 
sometimes.  In  the  end  of  1660,  there  is  a  letter  through  no 
intermediary  but  direct  to  Lauderdale.  It  is  a  revelation  of 
the  genuine  James  Sharp.  In  it  his  hate  of  the  Protesters  has 
frank  avowal,  and  we  learn  who  inspired  the  worst  excesses  of 
the  persecution.  "  I  fear  there  can  be  no  remedy  against  this 
malady  without  exercising  severity  upon  the  leading  impostors, 
Guthiree,  Gillespy,  Rutherford,  which  will  daunt  the  rest  of  the 
hottheads,  who  in  time  may  be  beat  into  sound  minds  and  sober 
practises."  We  are  permitted,  at  last,  to  hearken  to  the  utter- 
ance of  candour  and  veraciousness. 


88  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Most  damning  of  all,  however,  is  a  letter  to  Middleton.  It 
is  dated  on  the  21st  of  May  1661,  and  is  written  from  London. 
What  has  it  to  say  ?  This,  that  Sharp  was  then  holding 
constant  interviews  with  Lord  Clarendon  and  the  English 
Bishops  ;  that  the  subject  of  their  discussions  was  the  establish- 
ment of  Episcopacy  in  Scotland  ;  and  that  the  project  had  his 
hearty  approval.  This,  also,  that,  before  he  travelled  south, 
he  and  the  Commissioner  in  Edinburgh  had  conferred  on  the 
same  topic,  and  that  he  was  aware  of  the  Commissioner's 
intention  to  humble  the  Kirk.  And  this,  finally,  that,  in  his 
judgment,  "  the  superstructure  for  which  Middleton  has  laid 
the  foundation  will  render  his  name  precious  to  the  succeeding 
generations."  Let  us  remember  that,  only  two  months  before, 
he  had  boasted  that  "  thrice  a  week  at  least  Mr.  Douglas  "  was 
with  him ;  that  there  was  no  public  matter  he  could  learn 
which  he  did  not  impart  to  his  friend ;  and  that  he  had  joined 
the  Presbyterian  leader  in  beseeching  Lord  Middleton  to  call  a 
General  Assembly,  and  to  refrain  from  rescinding  the  Acts  of 
Parliament  which  favoured  the  Covenanters.  Let  us  remember, 
too,  his  asseveration  to  Patrick  Drummond  that  he  was 
resolved  "  not  to  meddle  any  more  in  these  stormy  and 
bespattering  entanglements."  He  has  one  language  for  the  old 
associates  whom  he  befools,  and  a  contradictory  language  for  the 
new  masters  whom  he  courts  with  a  sycophant's  assiduity. 
His  circumlocutions  and  artifices,  when  he  conversed  with 
Drummond  and  Douglas,  were  the  courtesy  of  Geraint,  courtesy 
"with  a  touch  of  traitor  in  it."  Even  Kobert  Baillie,  stung 
into  what  for  him  is  unwonted  courage,  speaks  some  plain 
truths  to  Lord  Lauderdale :  "  If  you  or  Mr,  Sharp,  whom  we 
trusted  as  our  own  soules,  have  swerved  towards  Chancellor 
Hyde's  principles,  as  now  we  see  many  doe,  you  [have  much  to 
answer  for."  Twelve  months  later,  in  May  1662,  the  Principal 
wrote  his  last  letter,  and  in  it  he  said  his  final  word  about  the 
distasteful  subject :  "  Had  we  but  petitioned  for  Presbytrie  at 
Breda,  it  had  been,  as  was  thought,  granted ;  but,  fearing  what 
the  least  delay  of  the  King's  coming  over  might  have  produced, 
and  trusting  fully  to  the  King's  goodness,  we  hastened  him 
over  without  any  provision  for  our  safetie.     At  that  time  it 


JAMES  SHARP,    AECHBISHOP  OF  ST.    ANDREWS. 
After  a  Painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely. 


SHARP  OF  THAT  ILK  89 

was  that  Dr.  Sheldon,  now  Bishop  of  London,  and  Dr.  Morley, 
did  poysou  Mr.  Sharp,  our  agent,  whom  we  trusted ;  who,  peice 
and  peice,  in  so  cunning  a  way  has  trepanned  us  as  we  have 
never  win  so  much  as  to  petition  either  King,  Parliament,  or 
Councell."  Troy  was  surrendered  now  ;  the  citadel  of  Presby- 
terianisiu  was  overthrown.  And  a  Sinon  within  the  gates 
deceived  the  townsmen  and  wrought  the  ruin.  ' 

The  Church,  "  as  it  was  settled  by  law,"  was  not  to  be  the 
Church  of  the  Covenants ;  when  the  Eescissory  Act  blotted 
out  the  legislation  of  two  decades,  and  when  Sharp  pro- 
nounced his  benediction  on  the  superstructure  of  which 
Middleton  laid  the  foundations,  the  phrase  could  only  mean 
the  Church  established  by  James  the  Sixth  and  confirmed 
by  his  son.  So,  in  the  harvest  of  1661,  the  Privy  Council 
announced  that  Bishops  were  to  be  restored.  In  December, 
four  men  were  sent  up  to  London,  to  be  consecrated  by 
Anglican  dignitaries,  and  thus  qualified  to  impart  similar 
sanctities  to  their  Scottish  brethren.  James  Hamilton, 
brother  of  Lord  Belhaven,  and  once  active  in  the  service  of  the 
Kirk,  received  the  diocese  of  Galloway.  Andrew  Fairfoul, 
a  humorist  whose  life  was  not  over  -  strict — "  Yes,"  said 
Lord  Eothes,  "  he  has  learning  and  sharpness  enough, 
but  he  has  no  more  sanctification  than  my  grey  horse  ! " 
— became  the  Archbishop  of  Glasgow.  Robert  Leighton  was 
sent  to  Dunblane:  Eobert  Leighton,  the  one  holy  man  of 
the  four,  of  whom  Burnet  writes  in  a  beautiful  sentence 
that  he  "  seemed  to  be  in  a  perpetual  meditation."  And 
James  Sharp  had  the  reward  of  his  craft  and  tireless  time- 
serving in  being  made  their  titular  head  ;  the  minister  of  Crail 
was  now  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews.  A  few  weeks  before,  he 
had  ventured  once  again  to  visit  Douglas  in  his  house  in 
Edinburgh.  He  told  him  of  the  King's  purpose  to  settle  the 
Church  under  Bishops,  aixl  how  Charles  desired  Douglas  to 
accept  the  primacy.  But  the  true  man  answered  curtly  that 
he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  His  guest  insisted, 
only  to  receive  a  second  No ;  and  then  Sharp  rose  to  take  his 
leave.  Robert  Douglas  convoyed  him  to  the  door ;  but,  after 
he   had   passed   through   it,   he   called    him   back,   and   said, 


go  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

"  James,  I  see  you  will  engage ;  I  perceive  you  are  clear ;  you 
will  be  the  Bishop  of  St.  Andrews.  Take  it,  and  the  curse  of 
God  with  it."  And  instantly  clapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  he 
shut  the  door.  It  was  a  di'amatic  parting  between  those  who 
had  been  as  brothers.  Perhaps  even  this  man,  seared  as  his 
conscience  was,  felt  a  tremor  of  awe  as  he  went  down  the 
stair,  with  the  good  minister's  anathema  resting  on  his  head. 

We  shall  nieet  Sharp  sufficiently  often  in  the  future ; 
but  we  know  now  why  his  contemporaries  recoiled  from  him 
with  a  shuddering  abhorrence.  The  uncanniest  stories  were 
current  among  them  about  their  arcli-enemy.  They  whispered 
that  he  was  in  league  with  Satan,  and  that,  more  than  once  or 
twice,  his  ghostly  coadjutor  was  closeted  with  him,  in  visible 
shape.  "  My  lord,"  queried  a  poor  creature  whom  the  Arch- 
bishop, presiding  over  the  Privy  Council,  wished  to  banish  for 
witchcraft  to  the  King's  plantations  in  the  West  Indies — "  My 
lord,  who  was  Yon  with  you  in  your  chamber  on  Saturday  night, 
betwixt  twelve  and  one  o'clock  ?  "  And  the  Archbishop's  face 
turned  both  black  and  pale,  and  the  prisoner  was  dismissed 
incontinently  from  the  bar.  It  seemed  as  if  no  diablerie  were 
too  hideous  for  the  betrayer  of  the  Church. 

Mr.  Whittier,  the  tenderest  of  American  poets,  has  some 
terrible  verses  which  he  entitles  Ichabod — verses  that  pillory 
a  statesman,  who,  for  a  time,  proved  recreant  to  the  cause  of 
emancipation — 

Of  all  we  loved  and  honoured,  naught 

Save  power  remains, — 
A  fallen  angel's  pride  of  thouglit, 

Still  strong  in  chains. 

They  are  verses  which,  if  it  were  not  that  they  invest  him 
with  too  much  intellectual  greatness,  might  have  been  written 
about  James  Sharp,  who  persecuted  that  which  formerly  he 
preached. 


CHAPTER  VII.   ■ 

THEIR  GRACES  ENTER  AND  HIS  GRACE  DEPARTS. 

THE  second  session  of  the  Earl  of  Middleton's  Parliament 
was  commenced  in  May  of  1662.  It  has  not  been 
garlanded  in  history  with  the  luxuriant  infamy  which  encircles 
its  predecessor ;  but  it  was  zealous  in  following  up  the  work 
so  emphatically  begun.  It  brought  back  the  Bishops  to 
the  benches  of  the  House.  It  restored  to  them  their  accus- 
tomed dignities,  privileges,  and  jurisdictions.  It  went  further. 
Thirteen  years  before,  patronage  had  been  abolished  in  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  and  congregations  had  been  given  the 
right  to  call  ministers  of  their  own  choosing.  But  Parliament 
decreed  that  popular  election  must  cease ;  and,  not  content 
with  this  provision  for  the  future,  the  legislators  enacted  that 
the  preachers  ordained  since  1649  must  receive  presentation 
from  the  lawful  patron  and  sanction  from  the  Bishop  of  the 
diocese,  or  else  must  vacate  their  charges.  The  law  was  as 
spiteful  as  it  was  retrograde. 

But,  if  Parliament  fashioned  the  bullets,  the  Privy  Council 
fired  them.  The  west  of  Scotland  was  the  headquarters  of 
the  Covenanters;  and  in  the  openmg  week  of  October  Lord 
Middleton  was  in  Glasgow.  He  listened  to  the  complaint  of 
the  Archbishop,  Andrew  Fairfoul,  that  not  one  of  the  younger 
ministers  under  his  superintendence  would  acknowledge  his 
authority  in  the  manner  enjoined  by  the  senators  in  Edinburgh. 
Their  recalcitrancy  is  not  strange;  Fairfoul's  character  did 
not  add  weight  to  his  fiats  among  religious  men.  "  He  used 
to  go  out  to  a  gentleman's  house,  and  there,  all  the  Sabbath, 
play  at  cards  and  drink.  One  day,  one  of  the  servants 
came   into   the   room.     *  Have   you   been    at  sermon  ? '    says 


92  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  Archbishop.  '  Yes,'  says  he.  '  Where  was  the  text  ? ' 
'  Be  member  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy,'  says  the 
servant."  But  the  King's  Commissioner,  angrier  and  more 
impatient  than  ever  because  for  weeks  he  had  been  in  a  state 
of  intoxication,  was  enraged  at  what  the  Churchman  told  him. 
He  vowed  that  he  should  bring  the  transgressors  to  a 
humbler  mind.  Gathering  round  him  as  many  of  the  members 
of  Council  as  were  within  reach,  he  framed  an  Act  to  enforce 
the  submission  of  the  ministers.  Not  one  of  those  present, 
with  the  solitary  exception  of  Sir  James  Lockhart  of  the 
Lee,  was  sober.  "  Duke  Hamilton  told  me,"  Gilbert  Burnet 
testifies,  "  they  were  all  so  drunk  that  day  that  they  were 
not  capable  of  considering  anything  that  was  laid  before  them, 
and  would  hear  of  nothing  but  executing  the  law  without  any 
relenting  or  delay."  Sir  James  protested  strenuously  against 
their  decision ;  but  the  protest  was  futile.  His  colleagues 
were  in  no  mood  to  welcome  the  monitions  of  saving  common- 
sense. 

This  was  what  the  Glasgow  meeting  of  the  Privy  Council 
did :  it  declared  that  all  the  ministers  who  should  have  failed, 
by  the  1st  of  November,  to  obtain  the  authorisation  of  patron 
and  bishop  must  leave  their  parishes.  There  would  not  be 
ten,  Fairfoul  asserted  loudly,  of  such  incorruptible  faith  and 
constancy  that  they  would  be  unwilling  to  retain  their  salaries 
and  their  comforts  by  compliance.  He  was  quickly  and  start- 
lingly  undeceived.  In  the  depth  of  winter  between  three  and 
four  hundred  Scottish  clergymen,  rather  than  wound  conscience 
by  accepting  their  holy  office  from  any  but  Jesus  Christ, 
abandoned  stipend  and  parish  and  home.  Middleton  himself 
was  astounded.  "  What  will  these  mad  fellows  do  ? "  he 
cried.  James  Sharp,  who  was  keenly  desirous  to  have  the 
work  accomplished,  but  who  would  have  gone  about  it  with 
more  deliberation  and  finesse,  was  in  a  paroxysm  of  rage ;  he 
protested  that  by  his  fatal  precipitancy  Fairfoul  had  spoiled 
everything.  The  members  of  the  Council,  returning  to  an 
evanescent  thoughtfulness  and  penitence,  realised  that  they 
had  committed  a  huge  error  in  tactics,  and  extended  the  day 
of  grace  until  the  1st  of  February  in  the  following  year.     But 


THEIR  GRACES  ENTER  AND  HIS  GRACE  DEPARTS    93 

the  deed  was  done;  and  neither  allurement  nor  threatening 
conld  persuade  the  outed  ministers  to  come  back. 

Perforce  their  empty  places  must  be  filled  ;  but  with  whom  ? 
It  is  now  that  we  meet  with  the  men,  who,  if  they  did  not 
rouse  our  indignation  by  their  arrant  hypocrisy,  would  supply 
the  missing  element  of  gaiety  in  the  sorrows  of  the  time.  The 
curates,  "their  graceless  graces,"  were  the  laughing-stock  of 
the  country.  Most  of  them  were  Highlanders,  who  had  no 
comprehension  of  Lowland  notions  and  ways.  Many  were 
beardless  boys  of  seventeen  or  eighteen, "  a  sort  of  young  lads," 
Kirkton  says,  "unstudied  and  unbred,  who  had  all  the 
properties  of  Jeroboam's  priests,  and  who  went  to  their 
churches  with  the  same  intention  and  resolution  a  shepherd 
contracts  for  herding  a  flock  of  cattle."  So  entirely  bucolic 
the  poor  fellows  were  that  landlords  in  the  north  were  heard 
cursing  the  Presbyterian  pastors,  because,  since  they  forsook 
their  parishes,  not  a  boy  could  be  got  to  watch  the  cows: 
everywhere  the  farm-lads  were  smitten  with  an  insatiable 
hunger  to  reap  the  profits  of  the  pulpit.  There  were  cases  in 
which  the  lay  patron,  alive  in  some  measure  to  the  necessities 
of  the  people,  disdained  to  present  the  ridiculous  applicant; 
but  the  Bishop  did  not  fail  in  his  duty,  and,  if  the  curate  went 
without  the  imprimatur  of  tlie  secular  overlord,  he  was  sure 
of  his  appointment  from  his  spiritual  superior.  "  They  were 
the  worst  preachers  I  ever  saw,"  Burnet  confesses,  "  ignorant 
to  a  reproach,  and  many  of  them  openly  vicious,  the  dregs  and 
refuse  of  the  northern  parts."  The  reception  they  had  from 
incensed  parishioners,  who  longed  after  their  own  banished 
teachers,  was  in  a  hundred  instances  more  testy  and  waspish 
than  urbane.  "  Well,  when  they  came  about  the  end  of  the 
spring,  in  some  places  they  were  welcomed  with  tears  and 
requests  to  be  gone,  and  not  to  ruin  the  poor  congregation  and 
their  own  soul ;  in  some  places  they  were  entertained  with  reason- 
ings and  disputes,  in  other  places  with  threatenings  and  curses, 
and  in  others  with  strange  affronts  and  indignities.  Some  stole 
the  bell-tongue,  that  the  people's  absence  from  sermon  might 
be  excusable ;  some  barricadoed  the  door,  to  oblige  the  curate 
to  enter  by  the  window  literally.     A  shepherd  boy,  finding  in 


94  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  field  a  nest  of  pismires,  fills  a  box  with  them ;  this  he 
empties  in  the  curate's  bootheads  as  he  is  going  to  pulpit. 
The  poor  man  began  his  exercise,  but  was  quickly  obliged 
to  interrupt,  the  miserable  insects  gave  him  so  much  pain 
and  disturbance."  "  From  which  it  appears  that  the  hireling 
does  more  than  stain  himself  with  sin;  he  becomes  an  inevitable 
mark  for  derision  and  jest. 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  directors  of  Church  and  country 
strove  to  secure  auditors  for  these  absurd  priestlings.  The 
Privy  Council  devised  "  the  Bishops'  Drag  Net,"  a  measure 
which  sought,  by  imposing  heavy  fines,  to  enforce  attendance 
in  the  deserted  churches.  But  the  people  stolidly  and  steadily 
refused  to  be  coerced.  Then  the  Council  passed  "  the  Scots' 
Mile  Act,"  which  required  the  recusant  ministers  not  to  reside 
within  twenty  miles  of  their  former  homes,  nor  within  six 
miles  of  Edinburgh,  nor  within  three  miles  of  any  royal  burgh. 
It  scarcely  mattered,  however,  how  far  the  loved  and  familiar 
preachers  might  be  driven  away ;  like  their  Master,  they 
could  not  he.  hid  from  men  and  women  who  knew  the  value  of 
their  words  and  works.  This  was  the  time  when  the  religious 
services  began,  at  first  in  private  houses  and  soon  in  the  open 
fields,  which  we  call  the  Conventicles,  and  which  are  so  famous 
in  the  chequered  story  of  the  Covenant. 

It  was  the  time,  too,  when  a  career,  sufficiently  boastful  and 
overbearing,  was  to  be  quenched  in  night.  The  Earl  of  Middle- 
ton,  "  who  carried  more  high  while  he  was  in  Scotland  than  ever 
any  of  our  one  hundred  and  eight  sober  limited  kings  had  done," 
dared,  in  the  blind  infatuation  of  his  confidence,  to  risk  an 
encounter  with  one  who  was  mightier  than  himself;  and  in 
the  contest  he  was  routed  beyond  remedy.  He  was  filled 
with  envy  of  Lauderdale,  and  boldly  attempted  to  effect  his 
rival's  downfall.  The  history  of  how  he  tried  to  compass 
his  purpose  is  a  curious  one.  An  Act  of  Indemnity  had  at 
last  been  given  to  Charles's  northern  Icingdom,  exempting 
from  troublesome  consequences  those  of  His  Majesty's  subjects 
who  had  been  over-friendly  with  Oliver  and  the  Common- 
wealth. But  Middleton  determined  that  from  the  benefits  of 
this   Indemnity  he  would  exclude   twelve  persons  who  were 


THEIR  GRACES  ENTER  AND  HIS  GRACE  DEPARTS    95 

especially  obnoxious  to  himself  :  he  would  have  them  disquali- 
fied, so  that  tliey  could  not  occupy  any  place  of  public  honour 
and  trust.  He  arranged  that  the  members  of  Parliament 
should  write  on  shps  of  paper — "  Billets  "  was  the  term  he  used 
— the  names  of  this  ostracised  and  unforgiven  dozen  ;  and  he 
cajoled  and  bribed  and  bullied  them  to  set  Lauderdale  in  the 
forefront  of  the  catalogue  of  culprits.  It'  was  done  as  he 
demanded.  "Viceroy  hath  been  Eoy  in  his  word,"  William 
Sharp,  the  Archbishop's  brother,  wrote  in  sympathetic  ink,  to 
the  blackened  and  castigated  statesman.  But  the  intriguer 
had  overreached  himself.  Lauderdale  received  from  his  own 
agents  in  Scotland  a  narrative  of  the  whole  transaction,  before 
the  envoys  of  the  Parliament  could  get  from  Edinburgh  to 
Whitehall,  to  report  it  to  the  King,  and  to  gain  the  royal 
consent  to  the  billeting  of  the  twelve.  He  had  endless  stores 
of  wit,  wit  of  which  Charles  never  wearied.  He  covered 
Middleton's  bungling  scheme  with  sarcasm  and  scorn.  He 
laughed  it  into  shreds  and  tatters,  until  even  Clarendon,  who 
was  the  Commissioner's  friend,  admitted  its  impossibility,  and 
the  King,  when  at  length  the  messengers  from  the  north 
arrived,  flung  their  parchment  unopened  into  his  cabinet. 
Then  Lauderdale  became  serious  in  his  revenge.  He  dwelt 
on  the  iniquity  of  a  plan,"  whereby  any  man's  honour,  his  life, 
his  posterity,  may  be  destroyed  without  the  trouble  of  calling 
him  or  hearing  his  answer."  He  had  never  known,  he  said, 
that  the  ballot  was  abused  to  draw  down  disgrace  and  punish- 
ment on  the  head  of  a  political  adversary,  "  except  among  the 
Athenians,  who  were  governed  by  that  cursed  sovereign  lord, 
the  People."  He  begged  his  master  to  take  every  step  to 
undo  the  affront. 

When  things  had  gone  so  far,  the  last  scene  of  the  play 
could  not  be  distant.  Lauderdale's  triumph  was  complete. 
He  went  down  to  Edinburgh,  to  fight  the  battle  out  in  person 
against  his  less  resourceful  foe.  In  May  166P),  Middleton  lost 
the  Commissionership.  By  and  by  the  successful  diplomatist 
could  send  joking  letters  to  the  King :  "  By  yesterday's  Act," 
he  says,  "you  will  see  that  Billeting  is  dead,  buried,  and 
descended."     In   January   1664,   new   disasters   overtook   the 


96  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

ruler  whose  folly  had  underrQiued  his  proud  estate.  Here  is 
a  document  almost  pathetic  in  its  confession  of  defeat :  "  May 
yt  pleas  Your  Majestic,  I  Jhon  Earle  of  Middleton  doe  by 
these  freelie  and  heartilie  resigne  upgive  and  overgive  in  and 
to  Yr.  Majesties  hands  the  offices  of  Captain  generall  of 
Yr.  Majestie's  Kingdome  of  Scotland,  and  of  captain  and 
keeper  of  Yr.  Majestie's  Castle  of  Edinbrogh,  granted  to  me 
by  two  severall  guifts  and  letters  patent  under  Yr.  Majestie's 
great  scale  of  the  said  kingdome,  to  be  disposed  upon  at  Yr. 
Majestie's  pleasour  in  all  tyme  commyng.  In  wittnes  wherof 
the  presents  are  written  and  signed  by,  May  it  pleas  Yr. 
Majestic,  Yr.  Majestie's  most  faithfull  most  humble  and  most 
obedient  subject  and  servant,  Middleton."  The  Scottish  nation 
saw  the  rough  soldier,  who  had  wrought  its  best  citizens  much 
injury,  driven  ignominiously  from  its  coasts. 

"  It  is  reported  that,  as  he  passed  Tweed,  a  poor  country 
woman  at  Coldstream  told  him,  since  he  had  been  so  busy  to 
destroy  their  ministers,  he  should  never  have  more  power  in 
Scotland."  The  vaticination  came  to  pass.  Charles,  indeed, 
felt  a  kind  of  pity  for  the  discredited  magnate.  He  made  him 
Governor  of  Tangier.  In  that  remote  outpost  of  Englisli 
dominion,  Middleton  lived  for  a  few  years,  until  his  self- 
indulgence  was  the  cause  of  his  death.  Hiding  one  day  in  a 
half-drunken  state,  he  fell  from  his  saddle  and  broke  some 
bones,  one  of  which  penetrated  his  heart.  "  Such  an  end,"  as 
James  Kirkton  tells  us  in  a  magnanimous  phrase,  "  had  this 
valiant  unhappy  man." 


JOHN   LIVINGSTON  OF  ANCEUM, 
From  the  Portrait  in  Gofford  House,  the  property  of  the  Earl  of  Wemijss. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JOHN  LIVINGSTON  TELLS  HIS  OWN  STORY. 

MY  Lord  Middleton's  journey  into  the  western  shires," 
wrote  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale  to  Sir  Eobert  Moray, 
"  was  only  a  flanting  and  a  feasting  journey ;  many  ministers 
were  put  out  in  those  parts,  but  no  further  done."  The 
achievement  in  expulsion,  to  Lauderdale  so  paltry,  was  grievous 
to  the  western  shires  themselves.  Nor  was  it  the  west  alone 
which  suffered.  The  preachers  were  ejected  in  other  districts 
of  Scotland.  In  the  Border  country  lies  the  village  of  Ancrum ; 
and  Ancrum  in  those  years  was  happy  in  having  John 
Livingston  for  its  minister.  He  was  compelled  to  go.  At  the 
Monday  service  after  his  Sacramental  Sabbath,  in  October 
1662,  he  spoke  to  his  people  for  the  last  time.  His  gentle  and 
modest  spirit  revealed  itself  in  his  farewells.  "  We  have  been 
labouring  among  you  these  fourteen  years,"  he  said,  "  and  have 
that  conviction  we  have  not  taken  the  pains,  in  private  or 
public,  which  we  ought;  yet  in  some  sort,  we  hope  we  may 
say  it  without  pride,  we  have  not  sought  yours  but  you.  We 
cared  not  to  be  rich  and  great  in  this  world.  In  as  far  as  we 
have  given  offence,  less  or  more,  to  any  in  this  congregation,  or 
any  that  have  interest  in  it,  or  any  round  about  it,  or  any  that 
are  here  present,  or  any  of  the  people  of  God  elsewhere,  we 
crave  God's  pardon,  and  crave  also  your  forgiveness."  Bravely 
John  Livingston  laid  down  the  work  he  loved,  concealing  the 
sharpness  of  the  pain.  But  his  hearers  could  not  suppress 
their  tears.  As  on  the  seashore  at  Miletus,  so  in  Ancrum 
Kirk,  elders  and  folk  sorrowed  that  they  should  see  their 
apostle's  face  no  more. 

In  December  he  appeared  before  the  Privy  Council,  accused 


98  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

of  " turbiilency  and  sedition" — a  strange  indictment  for  one 
who  esteemed  it  "  better  to  walk  the  realm  unseen  than  watch 
the  hour's  event."  "  I  have  carried  myself,"  he  pleaded,  "  with 
all  moderation  and  peaceableness,  and  have  lived  so  obscurely 
that  I  wonder  how  I  am  taken  notice  of."  He  had,  he  told 
the  Chancellor,  acknowledged  the  Lord's  mercy  in  restoring 
the  King.  He  was  prepared  to  admit  His  Majesty's  civil 
supremacy  over  all  persons  and  in  all  causes.  But  he  was  not 
free  to  take  the  Oath  of  Allegiance  in  the  terms  in  which  it 
was  proposed  to  him.  The  Chancellor  offered  to  adjourn  the 
court,  that  he  might  reconsider  his  refusal.  "  I  humbly  thank 
your  Lordship,"  he  replied ;  "  it  is  a  favour  which,  if  I  had 
any  doubt,  I  would  willingly  accept.  But  if,  after  seeking 
God  and  advising  anent  the  matter,  I  should  take  time,  it 
would  import  that  I  have  unclearness  or  hesitation ;  which 
I  have  not."  So  the  Council  passed  sentence.  Within  two 
months  the  prisoner  was  to  leave  His  Majesty's  dominions. 
Within  forty-eight  hours  he  was  to  remove  from  Edinburgh, 
and  go  to  the  north  side  of  the  Tay.  He  solicited  permission 
to  pay  a  short  visit  to  his  home,  that  he  might  have  some  talk 
with  wife  and  children.  But  the  favour  was  withheld.  There 
must  be  no  more  intercourse  with  Ancrum;  the  sooner  its 
minister  was  in  exile,  the  better  pleased  his  judges  would  be. 

John  Livingston  has  written  "  a  brief  historical  relation " 
of  his  life,  so  that  we  can  look  into  his  eyes,  and  can  learn  his 
motives,  and  can  see  how  human  and  how  godly  he  was.  The 
land  was  in  evil  case  whose  governors  sent  such  a  citizen 
across  the  seas. 

He  was  a  son  of  the  manse,  born  at  Kilsyth  in  1603,  his 
father  "all  his  days  straight  and  zealous  in  the  work  of 
reformation,"  his  mother  "  a  rare  pattern  of  piety  and  meek- 
ness." He  could  not  remember  the  time  or  the  mode  of  his 
own  conversion ;  from  the  outset  his  life  had  belonged  to  our 
God  and  His  Christ.  While  he  was  yet  a  schoolboy  in 
Stirling,  he  was  a  member  of  the  Church ;  and  never  could  he 
forget  the  first  occasion  when  he  sat  down  at  the  Holy  Table : 
"  There  came  such  a  trembling  upon  me  that  all  my  body 
shook,  yet  thereafter  the  fear  departed,  and  I  got  some  comfort 


JOHN  LIVINGSTON  TELLS  HIS  OWN  STORY     99 

and  assurance."  His  earliest  inclination  was  to  the  profession 
of  medicine ;  but,  spending  a  day  in  solitary  communion  with 
God,  in  a  cave  on  the  banks  of  the  Mouse  Water,  over  against 
the  Cleghorn  woods,  he  had  it  made  out  to  him  that  he 
behoved  to  preach  Jesus  Christ.  Thenceforward  Livingston 
had  "  one  passion,  and  it  was  He,  He  alone." 

When  Grlasgow  College  was  left  behind,  and  in  1625  he 
began  to  speak  for  his  Master,  he  had  his  first  taste  of 
persecution.  Congregations  in  different  parts  —  Torphichen, 
Linlithgow,  Leith,  Kirkcaldy — were  eager  to  claim  him;  but 
in  each  case  the  Bishops  prevented  the  settlement.  For  five 
years  he  had  no  sphere  of  work  peculiarly  his  own.  But  God's 
blessing  went  with  him  through  the  period  of  waiting.  Some- 
times the  preaching  of  the  Covenanters  is  condemned  as  cold 
and  hard ;  but  Livingston's  words  had  the  flame  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  glowing  in  them,  and  they  conquered  and  captivated 
the  souls  of  men.  One  of  the  great  revivals  in  the  annals  of 
the  Church  is  linked  with  the  name  of  the  young  probationer 
whom  the  Bishops  pursued  with  their  hate.  It  happened  at 
the  Kirk  of  Shotts,  on  the  21st  of  June  1630.  Like  that  day 
of  good-byes  at  Ancrum,  it  was  the  Monday  after  a  Sabbath  of 
Communion.  With  some  friends  he  had  spent  the  night 
before  in  laying  fast  hold  upon  the  promise  and  the  grace  of 
Heaven.  When  the  midsummer  morning  broke,  the  preacher 
wanted  to  escape  from  the  responsibilities  in  front  of  him. 
Alone  in  the  fields,  between  eight  and  nine,  he  felt  such 
misgivings,  such  a  burden  of  unworthiness,  such  dread  of  the 
multitude  and  the  expectation  of  the  people,  that  he  was 
consulting  with  himself  to  have  stolen  away ;  but  he  "  durst 
not  so  far  distrust  God,  and  so  went  to  sermon,  and  got  good 
assistance."  Good  assistance  indeed ;  for,  after  he  had  spoken 
for  an  hour  and  a  half  from  the  text.  Then  will  I  sprinkle  clean 
water  upon  you,  and  ye  shall  he  clean,  and  was  thinking  that 
now  he  must  close,  he  was  constrained  by  his  Lord  Himself 
to  continue.  "  I  was  led  on  about  ane  hour's  time  in  ane 
strain  of  exhortation  and  warning,  with  such  liberty  and 
melting  of  heart  as  I  never  had  the  like  in  publick  all  my 
life."     No  fewer  than  five  hundred  men  and  women,  some  of 


lop  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

them  ladies  of  high  estate,  and  others  poor  wastrels  and 
beggars,  traced  the  dawn  of  the  undying  life  to  John 
Livingston's  words  that  day. 

Healthful  as  his  fellowship  would  be,  we  cannot  accompany 
him  through  the  changeful  experiences  of  his  ministry.  His 
first  parish  was  an  Irish  one,  that  of  Killinchy  in  County 
Down,  to  which  the  Bishop  of  Eaphoe,  more  liberal  than 
most  of  the  prelates,  ordained  him.  In  1638,  the  expatriated 
Scot  recrossed  the  Channel,  to  Stranraer,  his  residence  for 
ten  years,  where,  if  the  town  was  "  but  little  and  poor,"  the 
people  were  "  very  tractable  and  respectful,"  and  their  teacher 
was  "sometimes  well-satisfied  and  refreshed."  Then  came 
the  fourteen  summers  in  Ancrum ;  and  then  the  ejection  by 
the  Privy  Council.  Stirring  incidents  broke  in  on  the  quiet 
usefulness  of  Livingston's  career  in  his  various  homes.  In 
Ireland  he  and  others  like  him  were  so  harassed  by  the  ill- 
will  of  Church  potentates  more  intolerant  than  his  Grace  of 
Kaphoe,  or  than  Dr.  Ussher,  Primate  of  Armagh,  "  ane  godly 
man  although  ane  Bishop,"  that  they  built  a  ship  near  Belfast 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  tons'  burden,  and  called  it  The  Eagle 
Wing,  and  were  minded  in  the  spring  of  1636  to  start  for  the 
New  England  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers.  It  was  September 
before  they  did  set  sail ;  and  then,  when  they  were  about  four 
hundred  leagues  away  from  the  Irish  coast,  such  pitiless 
storms  overtook  them  that  they  concluded  God  meant  them 
to  return.  It  was  a  perilous  voyage  back  to  Ulster ;  but  the 
days  were  vocal  with  social  prayer  and  thanksgiving,  and 
every  heart  felt  a  confidence  which  nothing  could  damp: 
"yea,  some  expressed  the  hope  that,  rather  than  the  Lord 
would  suffer  such  an  companie  to  perish  if  the  ship  should 
break,  He  would  put  wings  to  all  our  shoulders  and  carry  us 
safe  ashoare."  On  board  the  vessel  a  baby-boy  came  to 
Michael  Coltheard  and  his  wife,  and,  on  the  succeeding 
Sabbath,  he  was  baptised  by  John  Livingston,  who  named 
him  Seaborn ;  one  is  tempted  to  think  that  Seaborn  Coltheard 
must  be  younger  brother  of  Oceanus  Hopkins,  who  had  his 
wave-rocked  cradle  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower  sixteen 
autumns  before. 


JOHN  LIVINGSTON  TELLS  HIS  OWN  STORY      loi 

At  the  Hague,  in  1650,  the  preacher  wrestled  with  worse 
billows  than  those  of  the  Atlantic.  He  was  among  the 
commissioners  who  treated  with  Charles  "  for  security  to 
religion  and  the  liberties  of  the  country,  before  his  admission 
to  the  exercise  of  the  Government."  He  did  not  covet  the 
errand.  He  had  some  scruple  that  ministers  meddled  too 
frequently  in  State  matters.  He  knew  his  own  "  unacquainted- 
ness  and  inability,"  and  how  he  was  "  ready  to  condescend  too 
easily  to  anything  having  any  show  of  reason,"  so  that  he 
feared  he  "  should  be  a  grief  and  shame "  to  those  who  sent 
him.  He  would  even  have  preferred,  if  it  had  been  the  will 
of  God,  to  be  drowned  in  the  waters  by  the  way.  But  the 
Church  insisted  that  he  and  James  Wood  and  George 
Hutcheson,  with  the  Earl  of  Cassillis  and  Alexander  Brodie, 
must  be  her  representatives.  To  his  last  hour  he  had  regret- 
ful memories  of  the  episode.  He  soon  saw  the  frivolity  of  the 
King;  "many  nights  he  was  balling  and  dancing  till  near 
day."  He  could  not  approve  the  treaty  which  was  made; 
"  it  seemed  rather  like  ane  merchant's  bargain  of  prigging 
somewhat  higher  or  lower  than  ingenuous  dealing."  He  tried 
to  avoid  returning  to  Scotland  in  the  retinue  of  the  Prince, 
and  was  only  enticed  on  board  by  a  trick.  Altogether  it  was 
a  humbling  reminiscence.  "  So  dangerous  it  is  for  a  man  of 
a  simple  disposition  to  be  yoked  with  these  who,  by  wit, 
authority,  and  boldness,  can  overmaster  him." 

We  begin  to  understand  John  Livingston's  character.  He 
was  a  Protester,  but  a  Protester  in  whom  resided  the  New 
Testament  grace  of  epieikeia,  moderation  and  sweet  reasonable- 
ness. He  suspected  at  times  that  those  with  whom  he  allied 
himself  "kept  too  many  meetings,"  and  thus  rendered  the 
Church's  divisions  wider  and  more  mournful  than  they  need 
have  been.  Pre-eminent  among  his  gracious  features  is  his 
invincible  modesty.  He  took  the  lowest  room.  He  was  a 
proficient  in  the  humility  of  which  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  that 
"it  fitteth  the  back  for  every  burden,  and  maketh  the  tree 
sickerest  at  the  root  when  it  standeth  upon  the  top  of  the 
windy  hill."  His  gladness  is  unfeigned  when  he  recalls  how 
the  parishes,  which  wished  to  have  him,  but  from  which  he 


I02  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

had   been  held   back,  were  "  far   better   provided."     On  one 
occasion,  when  competing  calls  came,  "  his  own  mind  inclined 
most  to  Straiton,  because  it  was  an  obscure  place,  and  the 
people  landwart  simple  people."     "  I  think,"  he  said,  "  every 
minister  of  my  acquaintance  gets  his  work  done  better  than  I ; 
yet  I  would  not  desire  to  be  another  than  myself,  nor  to  have 
other  manner  of  dealing  than  the  Lord  uses,  for  His  power  is 
made  perfect  in  weakness."     Yet  Livingston  had  ample  cause 
for  an  honourable  pride.     He  was  a   cultured   scholar.     He 
knew   Hebrew   and    Chaldee    and    "  somewhat    also    of    the 
Syriack."     He  longed  to  add  an  understanding  of  Arabic  to 
his  other  Semitic  conquests ;  but  "  the  vastness  of  it "  gave 
pause  even  to  his  indomitable  spirit.     He  was  familiar  with 
French  and  Italian  and  Dutch,  and  read  the  Bible  in  Spanish 
and  German.    In  the  noble  army  of  book-lovers  our  Covenanter 
stands  well  to  the  front.     Like  Eichard  de  Bury,  he  "  valued 
codices  more  than  florins " ;  and  he  would  have  sympathised 
with  Thomas   Hearne's   quaint   and   particular   thanksgiving 
when    unexpectedly    he    lighted    on    three    manuscripts    of 
venerable  age.     Listen  to  him :  "  I  had  a  kind  of  coveting, 
when  I  got  leisure  and  opportunity,  to  read  much   and  of 
different  subjects ;  and  I  was  oft  challenged  " — that  is  to  say, 
my  wideawake  conscience  upbraided  me — "that  my  way  of 
reading  was  like  some  men's  lust  after  play."     But  he  was  no 
Dryasdust,  abjuring  for  his  folios  all  less  stringent  joys.     He 
had  a  melodious  voice,   and,    in    his  younger  days,  he   was 
fond  of   using  it.     When  he  was  a  student  at  Glasgow,  the 
Principal,   Eobert   Boyd   of   Trochrigg,  "  of   an   austere  -  like 
carriage  but  of  a  most  tender  heart,"  would  now  and  then 
call  him  and  three  or  four  others,  and  would  lay  down  books 
before   them,  and   would   have    them    sing    those    "  setts    of 
musick"  in  which  he  and  they  took  delight.     In  later  and 
more  troublous  years,  Livingston  did  not   sing   so   often   in 
concert  with  his  friends,  "wherein  I  had  some  little  skill"; 
just  as  he  denied  himself   the  other  recreation  of   hunting, 
which   once   he   had  found  "very  bewitching."     But  no  dis- 
tresses could  quite  silence  the  song  in  his  soul.     "A  line  of 
praises  "  he  thought  "  worth  a  leaf  of  prayer " ;  and,  growing 


JOHN  LIVINGSTON  TELLS  HIS  OWN  STORY      103 

more  rapturous,  he  would  break  forth:  "0,  what  a  massy 
piece  of  glory  on  earth  is  it,  to  have  praises  looking  as  it  were 
out  at  the  eyes,  praises  written  upon  the  forebrow;  to  have 
the  very  breath  smelling  of  praises,  to  have  praises  engraven 
on  the  palms  of  the  hands,  and  the  impression  of  praises  on 
every  footstep  of  the  walk :  although  this  be  that  day,  if  ever, 
wherein  the  Lord  calleth  to  mourning  and  fasting ! "  He  was 
one  of  those  delineated  in  the  old  verse.  My  people  shall  dwell 
in  a  jjeaceable  habitation. 

There  were  two  places  where  John  Livingston  was  seen 
at  his  best.  One  was  his  home.  It  might  be  very  poor.  In 
Killinchy — the  record  is  almost  incredible — his  stipend  was 
£4  a  year.  But  the  household  was  always  rich  in  love.  His 
wife  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  Bartholomew  Fleming,  an 
Edinburgh  merchant.  Before  he  married  her,  in  1635,  many 
had  told  him  of  her  gracious  disposition ;  but  for  nine  months 
he  had  no  clearness  of  mind  to  speak  to  her.  But,  going  with 
her  one  Friday  to  a  meeting,  he  found  her  "  conference  so 
judicious  and  spiritual"  that  his  scruples  were  scattered  to 
the  winds.  Yet  it  was  another  month  before  he  "  got  marriage 
affection  to  her,  although  she  was  for  personal  enduements 
beyond  many."  On  his  knees  he  asked  it  from  God,  and, 
when  it  came,  there  were  no  limits  to  its  fulness :  "  thereafter 
I  had  greater  difficulty  to  moderate  it."  Livingston  has  none 
of  that  aloofness  from  the  gladnesses  of  the  hearth  which  we 
note  in  some  of  his  fellows.  And  his  wife  was  worthy  of  him. 
Years  after,  when  he  was  gone,  and  when  the  skies  hung  still 
more  thunderously  over  Presbyterian  Scotland,  she  faced  the 
Earl  of  Eothes,  and  sought  liberty  for  the  ill-treated  ministers. 
Her  husband's  heart  could  trust  in  her. 

The  other  place  where  he  showed  at  his  worthiest  was  the 
pulpit.  He  would  not  acknowledge  it  himself,  girdled  as  he 
was  with  the  cincture  of  lowliness.  "  As  concerning  my  gift 
of  preaching,"  he  wrote  penitently,  "  I  never  attained  to  any 
accuracie  therein,  and,  through  laziness,  did  not  much 
endeavour  it."  His  custom  was  to  put  down  some  notes 
beforehand,  and  to  leave  the  enlargement  of  them  to  the 
time  of  delivery.     His  style,  he  insists,  was  suited  only  to  the 


104  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

common  people,  and  not  to  scholarly  listeners.  Yet  he  has 
clear  and  shrewd  ideas  about  the  architecture  of  a  sermon. 
If  he  would  not  have  too  few  doctrines,  neither  would  he 
reckon  too  many  particular  points,  as  "  eighthly,"  "  tenthly," 
"  thirteenthly."  The  matter  should  not  be  over-exquisite, 
with  th«  abstruse  learning  which  savours  of  affectation ;  but 
it  ought  not  to  be  childishly  rudimentary,  for  that  procures 
careless  hearing  and  contempt  of  the  gift.  There  should  not 
be  an  excess  of  similitudes  and  pictures ;  but  the  absence  of 
them  altogether  will  impoverish  rather  than  help.  In  his 
utterance,  the  speaker  ought  not  to  sing  his  sentences,  nor 
to  draw  out  his  words  to  an  inordinate  length,  nor  to  assume 
a  weeping-like  voice,  nor  to  shout  too  loud,  nor  to  sink  too 
low.  John  Livingston  understood  the  technical  side  of  his 
sacred  calling.  And,  despite  his  self-depreciation,  he  was  an 
ambassador  who  seldom  failed  to  transact  vital  business  for 
his  Master;  as  we  should  expect,  when  we  know  that  his 
chief  care,  before  entering  the  pulpit,  was  to  be  in  a  spiritual 
frame,  and  that,  in  it,  he  was  aided  most  by  "the  hunger 
of  the  hearers."  On  his  deathbed  these  were  his  words:  "I 
cannot  say  much  of  great  services ;  yet,  if  ever  my  heart  was 
lifted  up,  it  was  in  preaching  of  Jesus  Christ."  There  were 
multitudes  who  could  corroborate  the  witness. 

Mr.  Lowell  pays  to  the  naturalist  Agassiz  the  fine  tribute 
that,  "  where'er  he  met  a  stranger,  there  he  left  a  friend."  It 
is  a  coronet  which  might  gleam  on  Livingston's  brow.  He  had 
a  genius  for  friendship.  To  the  end  of  life  he  won  new  sisters 
and  brothers  in  the  family  of  God.  One  of  our  debts  to  him 
is  the  series  of  portraits  he  has  bequeathed  to  us  of  his 
intimates.  Miniatures  these  portraits  are,  but  miniatures  done 
by  a  painter  who  has  put  both  intellect  and  affection  into  his 
work.  There  are  ladies  in  his  gallery :  like  Lady  Eobertland, 
who  said  to  him,  "  With  God  the  most  of  mosts  is  lighter  than 
nothing,  and  without  Him  the  least  of  leasts  is  heavier  than 
any  burden";  and  like  Elizabeth  Melvill,  the  Lady  Culross, 
who  would  write,  "  Ye  must  be  hewin  and  hamerd  down 
and  drest  and  prepaired,  before  ye  be  a  Leving  Ston  fitt  for 
His  building  " ;  and  like  Margaret  Scott  of  Stranraer,  who  was 


MKS.    JOHN   LIVINGSTON   OF  ANCEUM. 
From  the  Portrait  in.  Gos/ord  House. 


JOHN  LIVINGSTON  TELLS  HIS  OWN  STORY      105 

"  but  in  a  mean  condition,"  and  yet  contributed  for  the 
Covenanting  army  "seven  twenty- two  shilling  sterling  pieces 
and  one  eleven  shillings'  piece  of  gold,"  and,  when  her  minister 
asked  how  she  could  part  with  so  much,  made  the  tender 
reply,  "  I  was  gathering,  and  had  laid  up  this  to  be  a  portion 
to  a  young  daughter  I  had ;  and,  whereas  the  Lord  lately  hath 
pleased  to  take  my  daughter  to  Himself,  I'  thought  I  would 
give  Him  her  tocher  also."  There  are  Christian  laymen  among 
the  artist's  subjects :  Cathcart  of  Carleton,  who  came  out  to 
family  worship  from  the  place  of  secret  communion,  and,  having 
prayed  earnestly  and  confidently,  ran  back  to  his  chamber  as 
soon  as  he  had  done ;  and  John  Mein,  the  merchant,  who  always 
sang  some  psalms  as  he  put  on  his  clothes  in  the  morning,  and 
who  could  point  to  a  room  where  he  had  spent  a  whole  night 
in  fellowship  with  God,  and  where  he  had  seen  a  light  greater 
than  ever  was  the  light  of  the  sun.  But  the  ministers  are 
the  favourite  themes.  They  pass  before  us,  an  inspiriting 
company  of  great-hearted  gentlemen.  Eobert  Bruce,  who  was 
short  in  prayer  with  others,  but  then  "  every  sentence  was 
like  a  strong  bolt  shot  up  to  heaven  "  ;  John  Smith  of  Maxtone, 
who,  whenever  he  met  a  youth  studying  for  the  Church,  would 
draw  him  aside,  and  "  seriously  and  gravely  exhort  him,  and 
heartily  bless  him  "  ;  David  Dickson,  who  told  Livingston  with 
his  latest  breath,  "  I  have  taken  all  my  good  deeds  and  all  my 
bad  deeds,  and  cast  them  in  a  heap  before  the  Lord,  and  have 
betaken  me  to  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  I  have  full  and  sweet 
peace";  Kobert  Blair,  "of  a  majestick,  awfull,  yet  amiable 
countenance,"  who  was  "  seldom  ever  brangled  in  his  assur- 
ance of  salvation  " ;  Kobert  Cunningham,  "  the  one  man  to  my 
discerning  who  resembled  most  the  meekness  of  Jesus  Christ," 
who,  when  his  wife  sat  by  his  deathbed,  prayed  for  the  whole 
Church,  and  for  his  parish,  and  for  his  brethren  in  the  ministry, 
and  for  his  children,  and  in  the  end  said,  "  And  last,  0  Lord,  I 
recommend  to  Thee  this  gentlewoman,  who  is  no  more  my  wife," 
and,  with  that  saying,  he  softly  loosed  his  hand  from  hers,  and 
gently  thrust  her  hand  a  little  from  him : — we  would  not  miss 
one  in  the  priestly  and  kingly  succession.  And  his  must  have 
been  a  rich  and  roomy  nature,  who  could  gather  such  friends. 


io6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

But  Middleton  and  the  Council  had  no  place  for  him  in 
Scotland.  "  At  last,  on  the  9th  of  Aprile  1663, 1  went  aboarde 
in  old  John  Allan's  ship,  and,  in  eight  dayes,  came  to  Eotterdam." 
Until  the  August  of  1672  the  exiled  preacher  tarried  his  Lord's 
leisure,  and  then  the  earthly  service  was  sublimed  into  the 
heavenly.  In  Ancrum  or  in  Holland,  in  honour  and  dishonour, 
it  fared  well  with  the  man  who  could  write :  "  If  it  were  given 
to  my  option,  God  knows  I  would  rather  serve  Him  on  earth 
and  then  endure  the  torments  of  the  lost,  than  live  a  life 
of  sin  on  earth  and  then  have  for  ever  the  bliss  of  the 
ransomed." 


CHAPTER   IX.      • 

A  NONSUCH  FOR  A  CLERK. 

"  TT  is  clear,"  writes  Professor  Eendel  Harris  of  a  nineteenth- 
J-  century  saint,  "  that  we  must  begin  our  reminiscences  by 
constructing  for  him  what  the  Jews  call  a  Sepher  Toldoth,  or 
Book  of  Generations."  There  is  a  peculiar  appropriateness  in 
so  beginning  any  sketch  of  Archibald  Johnston,  Lord  Wariston, 
the  Lawyer  of  the  Covenant.  He  owed  much  to  the  men  and 
women  of  his  house,  who  had  travelled  the  highroad  of  life 
before  him.  A  bad  heredity  is  a  woeful  burden ;  and  they  are 
much  to  be  pitied  against  whom  "from  the  cradle  fate  and 
their  fathers  fight."  But  there  is  a  good  heredity  which  is  a 
strong  shelter  to  the  soul,  and  an  incalculable  aid  to  holy 
living.  Archibald  Johnston,  like  numbers  more,  had  many 
reasons  to  be  thankful  for  his  Book  of  Generations. 

He  could  hardly  have  been  anything  else  than  a  learned 
advocate.  His  grandfather,  Sir  Thomas  Craig,  was  a  renowned 
pleader,  and  the  author  of  a  treatise  on  Feudal  Law.  One  aunt 
was  wife  of  the  first  Lord  Durie,  and  mother  of  the  second ; 
another  aunt  was  married  to  Sir  James  Skene,  President  of 
the  Court  of  Session.  Merchant  burgess  of  Edinburgh  as  his 
father  was,  the  boy  who  was  born,  in  March  1611,  to  a  career 
80  stormy  w^as  predestined  to  a  lawyer's  ambitions  and  victories. 
The  Sepher  Toldoth  prophesied  his  eminence  in  the  Courts. 

But,  if  the  God  of  parents  is  the  God  of  children,  there  was 
as  much  likelihood  that  he  would  be  a  Covenanter  and  a 
Christian.  He  had  a  grandmother,  Rachel  Arnot,  who  was 
a  princess  in  the  aristocracy  of  the  Kirk.  She  had  hidden 
Robert  Bruce  within  her  walls — Robert  13ruce,  the  minister 
of  St.  Giles,  who  was  often  at  cross  purposes  with  James  the 


io8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Sixth.  In  the  same  house,  too,  in  the  Sciennes,  when  the  Five 
Articles  of  Perth  were  ratified  by  the  Black  Parliament,  those 
Edinburgh  preachers  who  objected  to  such  Episcopal  law- 
making, and  whom  the  magistrates  had  commanded  to  leave 
tlie  city,  spent  an  entire  day  in  prayer.  Archibald  Johnston 
was  fifteen  before  white-haired  Rachel  Arnot  died ;  and  from 
her  lips  he  must  have  heard  many  a  history  of  heroism  and 
godliness.  This  will  be  a  lawyer,  we  predict,  as  familiar  with 
"  Heaven's  bribeless  hall,"  and  with  "  Christ,  the  King's 
Attorney,"  as  with  the  Court  of  Session  and  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  Church. 

Having  taken  his  degree  in  Glasgow,  he  passed  as  an 
advocate  in  the  winter  of  1633,  and  settled  in  an  Edinburgh 
home.  Soon  he  married,  finding  his  bride  in  a  Judge's 
daughter,  and  so  forging  a  fresh  and  delightful  chain  to  bind 
him  closer  to  his  profession.  Helen  Hay  could  have  no 
disturbing  presentiment,  in  the  joyousness  of  her  wedding 
morning,  of  that  tragic  hour,  seven -and-twenty  years  later, 
when  she  should  beg  the  forgiveness  of  her  husband  from  an 
obdurate  King,  and  should  urge  him  in  vain  to  pity  her  twelve 
children,  "  reduced  to  a  poor  and  desolate  condition."  At 
first  all  went  prosperously ;  and  the  town  house  in  the  High 
Street,  and  the  country  house  of  Wariston,  seven  miles  from 
the  Mercat  Cross,  were  palaces  of  content  and  hope.  But, 
indeed,  let  it  be  merry  June  or  bleak-nighted  December  in 
his  calendar.  Lord  Foresterseat's  daughter  had  only  a  proud 
love  to  bestow  on  her  husband. 

He  was  young  when  he  thirled  himself  to  the  cause  of  the 
Covenant.  We  have  seen  him,  still  some  years  under  thirty, 
reading  the  great  parchment  to  the  crowd  in  the  Greyfriars. 

And  now,  with  tone  distinct  and  clear,  as  one  whose  word  is  power, 
Johnston  of  Wariston  stood  forth — God's  gift  in  danger's  hour. 

But,  before  1638,  he  had  been  in  conflict  with  Charles  and 
Laud,  and  had  proved  himself  their  superior  in  wit  as  well  as 
in  piety.  For  example,  when  the  Scots  were  busy  framing 
Supplications  and  Protestations  against  the  tyrannous  actings 
of  Whitehall  and  Canterbury,  who  was  more  enthusiastic  than 


A  NONSUCH  FOR  A  CLERK 


109 


he  ?  They  devised  four  permanent  committees  of  their  best 
and  ablest  men — Tables  they  called  them — the  first  composed 
of  the  nobles,  the  second  of  representatives  from  the  counties, 
the  third  of  members  of  the  Presbyteries,  the  last  of  burghers 
and  townsmen.  Then,  out  of  these,  they  constructed  a 
Central  Table,  made  up  of  four  deputies  from  each  of  the  others, 
which  sat  constantly  in  Edinburgh,  and  conducted  all  negotia- 
tions with  the  Privy  Council.  But  this  effective  instrument  of 
scrutiny  and  criticism,  this  popular  and  vigilant  Opposition, 
was  really  of  Johnston's  planning ;  and  in  the  Central  Table 
he  was  Clerk  and  Secretary.  "  Canny,  lynx-eyed  lawyer  "  he 
might  be — it  is  Thomas  Carlyle's  portrait;  but  nevertheless 
"full  of  fire,  of  heavy  energy  and  gloom:  a  very  notable 
character."  And  ere  long  he  will  be  "  a  Lord  Eegister  of  whom 
all  the  world  has  heard." 

The  Glasgow  Assembly  set  him,  more  conspicuously  than 
ever,  in  the  van  of  the  Church's  fighters.  He  was  the  man 
who  framed  its  enactments,  and  put  them  into  proper  shape. 
Por  when,  on  Friday,  the  23rd  of  November,  the  ministers  and 
elders  proceeded  to  the  election  of  a  Clerk,  all  of  them,  with 
one  solitary  exception,  voted  that  no  one  else  must  be  chosen. 
They  understood  what  they  were  doing.  The  young  advocate 
stumbled  once,  we  are  told,  when  he  had  a  singularly  difficult 
paper  to  write;  but  that  was  at  the  very  commencement. 
There  was  no  subsequent  failure,  nor  semblance  of  it.  When 
we  paint  a  mental  picture  of  the  Cathedral  in  those  dark  wintry 
days,  and  of  its  thronging  and  eager  and  sometimes  noisy  audi- 
tory, we  must  see  that  "  a  little  table  is  sett  in  the  midst,  fore- 
auent  the  Commissioner" — so  long  at  least  as  it  pleases  his 
Grace  to  remain  in  such  troublesome  company ;  and  behind  the 
little  table  are  sitting  side  by  side  Henderson  and  Wariston. 
"Mr.  Johnestoun  to  us  all,"  Baillie  says,  "was  a  Nonsuch 
for  a  Clerk." 

Charles  was  in  choleric  mood  when  he  knew  what  was 
done  in  Glasgow.  In  the  summer  of  1639,  one  must 
think  of  the  Eoyalist  soldiers,  with  the  King  at  their  head, 
embarked  on  the  Bishops'  War.  They  have  assembled  at  the 
Birks  near  Berwick,  whilst  the  Covenanters  are  encamped  on 


no  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Duns  Law.  No  pages  in  Eobert  Baillie's  three  volumes  are 
more  graphic  than  those  which  depict  the  scene.  "  It  would 
have  done  you  good  to  have  casten  your  eyes  athort  our  brave 
and  rich  Hill,  as  oft  I  did  with  great  contentment  and  joy ; 
for  I,  quoth  the  wren,  was  there  among  the  rest."  The 
regiments  had  noblemen  for  their  officers,  the  captains  were 
landed  proprietors,  the  lieutenants  experienced  troopers,  some 
of  whom  had  stood  "  ankle-deep  in  Lutzen's  blood  with  the 
brave  Gustavus."  The  colours,  Hying  at  each  captain's  tent, 
bore  the  Scottish  arms,  with  the  motto  in  letters  of  gold,  "  Tor 
Christ's  Crown  and  Covenant."  There  were  some  companies 
of  Highlanders,  "  souple  fellows,  with  their  playds,  targes,  and 
dorlachs."  But  most  of  the  soldiers  were  staunch  young 
ploughmen,  whose  capacity  increased  with  every  hour.  "  The 
good  sermons  and  prayers,  morning  and  even,  under  the  roof 
of  heaven,  to  which  their  drums  did  call  them  for  bells ;  the 
remonstrances  verie  frequent  of  the  goodness  of  their  cause, 
of  their  conduct  hitherto  by  Hand  clearlie  divine ;  also  Leslie, 
his  skill  and  fortoun — made  them  all  so  resolute  for  battell  as 
could  be  wished."  In  Alexander  Leslie  they  had  indeed  the 
best  of  commanders.  "  Such  was  the  wisdome  and  authoritie 
of  that  old,  little,  crooked  soldier,  that  all,  with  ane  incredible 
submission,  gave  themselves  over  to  be  guided  by  him,  as  if  he 
had  been  Great  Solyman."  And  in  the  tents  Baillie  heard 
"  the  sound  of  some  singing  psalms,  some  praying,  and  some 
reading  Scripture."  Such  battalions  would  have  been  un- 
conquerable ;  and  Charles  did  wisely  when  he  concluded  the 
Pacification  of  Berwick,  and  ceased  for  a  while  from  hostilities. 
It  was  Archibald  Johnston  who  took  the  main  part  in 
bringing  the  King  to  terms.  In  his  Diary,  for  one  month 
of  his  life,  from  May  21st  to  June  25th,  1639 — a  precious 
fragment  which  the  Scottish  History  Society  has  published — 
we  see  him  at  this  war-time  in  his  virile  quality,  his  impetu- 
osity and  heat.  He  asks  the  Edinburgh  Committee  and  the 
various  counties  for  men  and  material  in  letters  which,  like 
Cromwell's,  "  are  like  the  firing  of  some  two  hundred  shot." 
"  They  are  not  worthy  to  be  freemen  that  will  neglect  their 
country,  which  is  now  ready  to  bleed  for  their  neglect.     Be 


A  NONSUCH  FOR  A  CLERK  iii 

not  wanting  to  yourselves,  and  be  confident  God  will  send  an 
outgate  to  all  these  difficulties."  "  Shall  our  enemies  be  more 
forward  for  invasion  against  the  truth  and  for  our  slaverie, 
than  we  for  our  defence,  for  the  truth,  and  for  our  liber  tie  ? 
In  the  end  they  have  neither  Christian  nor  Scottish  hearts 
who  will  expose  their  religion,  their  countrie,  their  neighbours 
and  themselves  to  this  present  danger,  without  taking  part." 
These  are  clarion  calls.  But  Wariston's  devoutness  is  as 
apparent  as  his  patriotism.  On  Monday,  June  3rd,  he 
spends  the  whole  afternoon  in  conference  with  Alexander 
Henderson  and  David  Dickson  and  Eobert  Meldrum,  the 
secretary  of  General  Leslie.  They  have  bethought,  and  better 
bethought,  on  the  necessities  of  the  army,  the  want  of  money 
and  munition  and  order  and  discipline,  the  natural  impos- 
sibility of  retiring  or  of  remaining  or  of  going  forward. 
They  have  been  "  forfoghten  with  the  consideration."  But 
then  the  sun  breaks  through  the  clouds.  Despairing  of 
secondary  causes  and  human  helpers,  they  look  up  to  heaven. 
David  Dickson  attests  that,  when  God  delivers  them,  they, 
who  have  been  emptied  and  annihilated  of  all  their  wits  and 
judgment,  shall  admire  and  adore  Him  alone,  for  building  so 
high  an  edifice  on  so  low  a  foundation,  for  bringing  so  great 
an  ebb  to  so  great  a  tide,  for  drawing  so  rich  an  abundance 
out  of  so  vast  a  want.  And  "  in  despyte  of  the  devill  and  all 
our  straites,"  Archibald  Johnston  goes  from  his  Council  of 
War  with  a  quiet  heart ;  he  has  seen  the  Aurora  in  the  eastern 
sky.  But  how  rapier-like  and  stinging  his  speech  could  be ! 
It  leaves  goads  in  the  minds  of  others,  and  sometimes  pangs 
in  his  own.  He  bears  the  brunt  of  the  negotiations  with 
Charles,  and  His  Majesty  resents  the  pithiness  of  his  utterance. 
"  The  King  answered  that  the  devil  himself  could  not  make  a 
more  uncharitable  construction  or  give  a  more  bitter  expres- 
sion." Again :  "  The  King  commanded  me  silence,  and  said 
he  would  speak  to  more  reasonable  men."  And,  yet  again : 
"  When  we  rose,  he  gave  to  every  one  of  us  a  kiss  of  his  hand, 
bidding  me  walk  more  circumspectly  in  time  coming."  There 
are  no  half-measures  in  the  Covenanting  lawyer's  soul. 

The   years   went   on.      In   1641,   he   was   knighted,  and 


112  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

became  a  Lord  of  Session.  Later  in  the  decade,  he  was  one  of 
the  eight  Scottish  commissioners  to  the  Westminster  Assembly. 
The  Jerusalem  Chamber  did  not  see  so  much  of  him  as  of 
Eutherfurd  and  Gillespie ;  but,  when  he  was  present,  he  gave 
good  help  with  "  the  sharp  point  of  his  manifold  arguments." 
Once,  in  March  of  1646,  he  made  a  speech  which  was  long 
remembered.  The  House  of  Commons  had  proposed  to  create 
a  civil  tribunal  which  should  revise  the  verdicts  of  the  Church 
courts ;  and  Archibald  Johnston  expressed  the  convictions  of 
the  majority  in  the  Assembly,  when  he  said  that  there  must 
be  no  headship  over  the  spiritual  realm  bequeathed  to  Pope  or 
King  or  Parliament.  "We  must  not  edge  away  an  hem  of 
Christ's  robe  royal."  His  decisive  sentences,  except  for  their 
antique  dialect,  might  have  come  from  the  lips  of  Thomas 
Chalmers  during  the  Ten  Years'  Conflict  of  a  later  century. 

There  are  toilers  who  surprise  us  by  the  amount  and  the 
diligence  of  their  labours ;  and  this  man  was  of  their  company. 
He  was  seldom  able  to  sleep  more  than  three  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four,  such  a  restless  mind  he  had,  and  such  a  per- 
petual anxiety  to  do  "  a  shear  darg "  for  the  commonweal. 
He  could  have  appreciated  both  clauses  in  the  advice  given, 
in  a  subsequent  age,  by  one  of  the  most  famous  of  his 
countrymen  :  "  Fear  God,  and  work  hard."  And,  in  the  midst 
of  his  multiform  tasks,  he  strove  to  keep  the  mirror  of  con- 
science unsullied.  Greatly  as  he  distrusted  the  policy  of 
Charles  L,  he  made  generous  efforts  to  save  him  from  its 
consequences.  But,  when  the  axe  of  the  headsman  ended  the 
King's  arrogances  and  ambiguities,  Wariston  was  not  of  those 
who  approved  of  treating  with  his  son ;  he  is  clear  from  the 
stigma  which  clings  in  this  connection  to  some  saintly  names. 
Probably  this  was  why  the  Second  Charles  had  no  shadow  of 
compunction  afterwards  in  sending  him  to  his  doom.  Even 
to  James  Guthrie  the  Merry  Monarch  could  give  a  passing 
sigh  when  he  was  informed  that  all  was  over ;  but  for  Lord 
Wariston  there  were  no  repentances,  however  easy  :  there  were 
only  the  hate  of  hate  and  the  scorn  of  scorn. 

Charles  had  another  cause  for  dislike.  Johnston  had 
accepted  office  and  emolument  from  Cromwell.     He  was  one 


SIR   ARCHIBALD  JOHNSTON,    LORD  WARISTON. 

After  a  Portrait  by  George  Jamegone,  in  the  possession  of  Sir  James 
Gibson-Craig,  Bart. 


A  NONSUCH  FOR  A  CLERK  113 

of  the  sixty-three  members  of  Oliver's  House  of  Peers ;  and, 
in  1657,  he  was  reinstated  by  the  Protector  in  the  dignity  of 
Lord  Clerk  Eegister  of  Scotland — a  dignity  which,  a  few  years 
before,  he  had  been  compelled  to  forgo.  These  were  sanctions 
of  the  Usurpation  such  as  no  other  Covenanter  had  supplied, 
and  the  King  might  point  to  them  in  justification  of  his  severity. 
To-day,  when  Cromwell's  moral  grandeur  is  as  patent  to  us  as 
his  military  genius,  we  do  not  dream  of  blaming  Archibald 
Johnston  for  what  he  did.  His  procedure,  too,  was  almost 
pathetically  necessary.  He  had  lost  all  his  means  in  promot- 
ing the  great  aims  of  his  life.  He  had  no  income  to  provide 
for  the  boys  and  girls  crowding  the  house  in  the  High  Street ; 
and  the  salary  of  the  Lord  Clerk  Register  was  sorely  required. 
The  lacrimce  rerum  which  the  incident  stirs  we  discover 
elsewhere,  in  his  own  agony  afterwards  that  he  had  "made 
himself  a  trespasser."  In  his  dying  speech  he  bewailed  his 
misdeed  in  moving  words :  "  It  doth  not  a  little  trouble  me, 
and  lies  heavy  on  my  spirit,  and  will  bring  me  down  with 
sorrow  to  the  grave,  that  I  suffered  myself,  through  the  power 
of  temptations,  and  the  too  much  fear  anent  the  straits  that 
my  numerous  family  might  be  brought  into,  to  be  carried  unto 
so  great  a  length  of  compliance  with  the  late  usurpers,  which 
did  much  grieve  the  hearts  of  the  godly,  and  did  give  no  small 
occasion  to  the  adversary  to  reproach  and  blaspheme." 
"  Scruple,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "  is  a  little  stone  in  the  foot ; 
if  you  set  it  upon  the  ground,  it  hurts  you."  Lord  Wariston's 
foot,  we  surmise,  was  fevered  and  vexed  by  a  little  stone. 

But  it  was  his  habit  to  scourge  and  afflict  himself,  prince 
in  Israel  although  he  was.  His  hasty  temper  was  a  poignant 
distress  to  him  :  did  it  not  mar  his  best  pieces  of  work  that  he 
was  "  subject  to  many  excesses  of  heat,  and  thereby  to  some 
precipitations,  which  have  offended  standers-by  and  lookers- 
on  "  ?  Perhaps,  on  occasion,  his  eloquence  was  a  trifle  vehement 
and  exasperating.  But  his  personal  religion  was  of  no  slipshod 
kind.  He  was  an  ardent  lover  of  the  secret  place.  Kirkton 
says  that  he  gave  more  time  to  prayer  and  reading  and 
meditation  than  any  man  he  ever  knew.  It  was  a  common 
thing  for  him  to  be  on  his  knees,  alone  in  his  room,  for  three 


114  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

consecutive  hours.  Again  and  again  he  lost  consciousness  of 
what  was  passing  round  him.  Once,  intending  to  spend  the 
beginning  of  the  day  in  fellowship  with  God,  he  continued  his 
intercessions  and  studies  from  six  in  the  morning  till,  to  his 
own  amazement,  the  town  bells  rang  at  eight  in  the  evening. 
We  comprehend  now  why  his  heart  was  garrisoned  by  peace, 
while  the  noise  of  the  archers  was  seldom  intermitted  outside. 
He  believed  that  he  saw  God  face  to  face;  and,  the  night 
before  his  execution,  he  could  tell  a  friend  that  not  once,  for 
a  long  period,  had  he  known  a  doubt  regarding  his  salvation. 
Those  streams  from  the  uplands  fed  the  courage  which  imvev 
flagged,  and  nourished  until  the  end  his  wisdom  and  his 
stature. 

On  the  14th  of  July  1G60,  a  warrant  was  issued  for  the 
apprehension  of  Sir  James  Stewart,  Lord  Provost  of  Edinburgh, 
Sir  John  Chiesly  of  Kerswall,  and  Sir  Archibald  Johnston. 
The  first  two  were  arrested ;  but  Wariston  had  some  inkling 
of  what  was  coming,  and  escaped  to  the  Continent.  Enraged 
at  missing  him,  his  enemies  proclaimed  his  offices  vacant  and 
his  estates  forfeit ;  but  meanwhile  his  life  was  secure.  In 
Hamburg,  some  months  after  leaving  Scotland,  he  fell  into 
serious  illness.  He  was  bled  by  a  Dr.  Bates,  whose  creed  was 
not  that  of  the  Covenanters ;  and  there  were  reports  that  the 
physician  did  not  deal  fairly  with  his  patient.  It  is  certain 
that  he  never  recovered  either  his  robustness  of  body  or  his 
clearness  of  memory ;  he  was  broken  and  old  before  his  time. 
When  he  had  been  two  years  in  Hamburg,  he  ventured  to 
France  to  meet  his  wife ;  but  the  spies  of  Charles  found  him 
at  Eouen.  It  is  characteristic  of  him  that,  wlien  they  entered 
his  lodging,  he  was  kneeling  in  prayer;  from  the  audience- 
chamber  of  God  they  hastened  him  to  imprisonment.  In 
January  1663,  he  was  confined  within  the  Tower  of  London, 
where  he  lay  for  six  months ;  and  then,  in  the  summer,  he  was 
transferred  to  the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh. 

It  was  a  feeble  invalid  who  was  led  before  the  Scottish 
Parliament ;  there  was  no  risk  that  the  persecutors  would  be 
assailed  by  the  indignation  which  once  might  have  leaped  from 
his  tongue.     Everybody  compassionated  him,  everybody  except 


A  NONSUCH  FOR  A  CLERK 


"5 


the  Bishops  and  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale,  once  his  brother- 
deputy  at  the  Assembly  of  Divines.  Lauderdale's  malice  we 
can  read  in  his  own  letters.  Thus,  on  the  23rd  of  June,  he 
writes  that  there  is  "  a  petition  from  that  wretches  children, 
shewing  that  he  hath  lost  his  memorie  and  almost  his  sence, 
and  praying  for  delay  till  he  may  be  in  a  fitter  condition  to 
dye."  But  the  Council,  he  adds,  and  his  own  was  the  most 
potent  voice  in  the  Council,  "  wold  not  meddle  in  giving  any 
respite."  On  the  2nd  of  July,  after  the  prisoner's  case  has 
been  discussed  again,  he  describes  how  "divers  voted  for 
delay,"  but  not  his  Grace  himself — "  I  confess,  thogh  I  thinke 
I  be  as  farr  from  a  cruell  disposition  as  any  bodie,  yet, 
considering  the  justice  of  the  sentence,  and  that,  if  it  had  come 
to  a  delay,  it  must  have  broght  the  trouble  of  it  to  His  Majestie, 
who  onely  can  grant  pardon,  I  did  cleirly  vote,  Presently." 
Again,  on  the  9th,  "  very  late,"  he  has  more  news  to  send  from 
"  Halyrude  hous."  On  the  previous  day  Wariston  had  been  at 
the  bar  once  more.  "  Yet  I  must  needs  tell  you  something 
there  was  of  compassion  in  the  Parliament,  when  they  granted 
fourteen  dayes  time  for  the  prisoner  to  prepare  himself  to  dye. 
And  he  receaved  the  sentence  to  be  hanged  and  to  have  his 
head  affixed,  with  much  more  composedness  of  spirit  than  I 
did  expect.  He  sate  on  his  knees  according  to  the  custome ; 
and  then  prayed  God  to  bless  the  King,  to  bless  the  Parliament, 
to  keep  every  one  from  his  condition ;  and  againe  he  prayed 
for  the  King,  for  the  Church,  and  for  the  kingdome,  and 
without  one  word  for  himself  he  went  out."  So  Lauderdale, 
who  voted  "  Presently,"  was  not  balked  of  his  wish.  On  the 
22nd  of  July,  Archibald  Johnston  was  to  finish  his  course  and 
to  receive  his  enduring  crown. 

If  the  fire  of  his  nature  was  less  fervid,  the  faith  was  as 
firm.  His  young  daughter  had,  at  her  request  and  his,  been 
his  companion  in  the  Tower,  and  she  remained  with  him  in 
the  Tolbooth ;  and  always  afterwards  the  prison  was  to  her  a 
gracious  recollection.  Her  father's  great  concern  was  that  he 
might  "  not  faint  in  the  hour  of  trial " ;  and  the  nearer  the  end 
approached,  the  completer  became  his  tranquillity,  until,  on 
the  morning  of  liis  death,  he  spoke  with  assurance  "  of  his 


ii6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

being  clothed  in  a  long  white  robe,"  before  another  night 
should  descend  on  his  Margaret  and  himself.  Through  all 
that  forenoon  she  heard  him  ejaculating,  Ahha,  Father ! — he 
would  have  understood  and  loved  William  Canton's  verses — 

Thou'st  seen  how  closely,  Abba,  when  at  vest, 

My  child's  head  nestles  to  my  breast; 

And  how  my  arm  her  little  form  enfolds, 

Lest  in  the  darkness  she  should  feel  alone  ; 

And  how  she  holds 

My  hands,  my  hands,  my  two  hands  in  her  own  ? 

A  little  easeful  sighing, 
And  restful  turning  round. 

And  I  too,  on  Thy  love  relying, 
Shall  slumber  sound. 

At  two  o'clock  he  was  called  from  his  cell,  for  the  scaffold  was 
waiting  him  at  the  Mercat  Cross. 

Well  he  knew  the  spot.  It  was  directly  opposite  the 
windows  of  his  own  house.  They  had  made  the  gallows 
unusually  high,  to  be  in  keeping  with  the  offences  which  were 
to  be  expiated  on  it.  Eound  the  place  were  the  King's  Life 
Guards  on  horseback,  "  with  their  carabynes  and  naiket  swords," 
and  there  was  also  "  ane  gaird  of  the  toun  of  Edinburgh  with 
their  cullouris  displayed."  On  the  way  to  the  Cross,  Wariston 
often  turned  to  the  people  and  asked  their  prayers.  When  he 
reached  it,  he  read  his  dying  testimony,  first  to  those  on  the 
north  and  thereafter  to  those  on  the  south,  speaking  in  a 
distinct  voice,  the  old  voice  of  the  Greyfriars  given  back  again. 
Having  finished,  he  prayed  twice,  with  the  deepest  contrition, 
but  then  in  a  kind  of  rapture.  At  the  head  of  the  ladder  he 
cried,  "  I  beseech  you  all  who  are  the  people  of  God  not  to 
scar  at  sufferings  for  the  interests  of  Christ ;  for  I  assure  you, 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  He  will  bear  your  charges."  The 
moment  after  he  was  heard  to  say,  "  The  Lord  hath  graciously 
comforted  me."  Then,  asking  the  executioner  if  he  was  ready, 
he  gave  the  signal,  exclaiming,  "  0  pray,  pray,  praise,  praise ! " 
It  was  with  arms  uplifted  to  the  summer  skies,  spectators  re- 
marked, that  Archibald  Johnston,  who  had  lived  in  familiarity 
with  the  better  world,  passed  to  see  its  glories. 


A  NONSUCH  FOR  A  CLERK  117 

In  Naphtali,  that  fine  old  Covenanting  book,  his  last  speech 
may  be  read.  There  are  the  advocate's  accent  in  it,  and  the 
patriot's  accent,  but,  best  of  all,  the  Christian's  accent,  the 
discourse  of  the  townsfolk  in  the  city  of  God.  He  grieved 
that  it  was  "  weak  and  sliort,"  for  it  had  to  be  written  in  his 
dungeon ;  but  it  stands  in  no  need  of  apology.  These  are  its 
closing  sentences :  "  I  do  here  now  submit  and  commit  my 
soul  and  body,  wife  and  children  and  children's  children,  with 
all  others,  His  friends  and  followers  —  all  His  doing  and 
suffering,  witnessing  and  sympathising  ones,  in  the  present 
and  subsequent  generations — unto  the  Lord's  choice  mercies, 
graces,  favours,  services,  employments,  empowerments,  enjoy- 
ments, improvements,  and  inheritments,  on  earth  and  in 
lieaven,  in  time  and  eternity.  All  which  suits,  with  all  others 
which  He  hath  at  any  time  by  His  Spirit  moved  and  assisted 
me  to  make  and  put  up  according  to  His  will,  I  leave  before 
and  upon  the  Father's  merciful  bowels  and  the  Son's  mediating 
merits  and  the  Holy  Spirit's  compassionate  groans,  for  now 
and  evermore.     Amen." 

Something  there  is  in  such  language — a  colour,  a  music,  an 
intimacy — beyond  Greek  and  Eoman  fame. 


CHAPTER   X. 

SABBATH  MORNING  IN  FENWICK. 

AT  Fenwick,  close  by  Kilmarnock,  stands  one  of  the 
historical  parish  churches  of  the  west  of  Scotland. 
The  building  is  unassuming  and  simple,  shaped  like  a  Greek 
cross,  with  a  small  tower  and  belfry.  Inside  are  three  galleries, 
each  with  oaken  front.  Beside  the  pulpit  the  visitor  discovers 
a  quaint  relic  of  the  older  time — a  bracket  on  which  is  fixed  a 
half -hour  sand-glass,  once  employed  to  regulate  the  duration  of 
the  sermon.  In  the  green  grass  of  the  churchyard  there  are 
the  graves  of  martyrs — Robert  Buntine  and  James  Blackwood, 
executed  in  1666;  James  White,  shot  at  one  of  the  moorland 
farms ;  John  Fergushill  and  George  Woodburn  and  Peter 
Gemmill,  killed  in  1685.  These  were  parishioners  of  Fenwick 
at  its  most  notable  epoch ;  and  their  deaths  witness  what 
strength  as  of  steel  the  preaching  they  heard  breathed  into 
their  hearts.  There  were  other  hearers  too,  better  known 
than  these :  the  Howies  of  Lochgoin,  and  Captain  John  Paton 
of  Meadowhead,  who  sleeps  in  the  Greyfriars,  but  to  whose 
bravery  and  religion  a  monument  has  been  raised  in  the 
humbler  God's  acre  in  Ayrshire.  To  the  Scot  who  reverences 
what  is  best  in  the  story  of  his  country,  this  is  holy  ground. 

The  first  minister  of  Fenwick  was  William  Guthrie,  cousin 
of  "  the  short  man  who  could  not  bow." 

Eldest  son  in  a  Forfarshire  family,  he  was  born  in  his 
father's  house  of  Pitforthy,  near  Brechin,  in  1620.  No  fewer 
than  four  out  of  the  five  boys  in  Pitforthy  mansion  became 
Covenanting  preachers — Kobert,  and  Alexander,  and  John, 
as  well  as  William ;  not  many  homes  in  Scotland  did  so  much 
for   the   harassed   and  danger-driven   Kirk.     In   his   student 

ii8 


SABBATH  MORNING  IN  FENWICK  119 

years  at  St.  Andrews  William  Guthrie  found  two  treasures,  in 
addition  to  the  classical  and  philosophical  learning  which  came 
to  him  there,  and  better  still  than  it.  One  was  the  intimate 
friendship  of  his  cousin  James,  his  senior  by  some  half  a  dozen 
summers,  who  took  the  lad  to  lodge  with  him  in  his  own 
rooms.  From  the  first  he  had  his  premonitions  of  the  goal 
to  which  his  cousin  was  travelling,  and  he  envied  him  the 
crown  he  saw  waiting  for  his  brow.  "  You  will  have  the 
better  of  me,"  he  said ;  "  for  you  will  die  honourably  before 
many  witnesses,  with  a  rope  about  your  neck ;  and  I  will  die 
whining  on  a  pickle  straw,"  But,  in  the  divinity  school,  a 
still  profounder  happiness  was  in  store.  Samuel  Eutherfurd 
had  recently  been  sent,  much  against  his  desire,  to  the 
University  town,  to  fill  the  chair  of  theology  in  St.  Mary's 
College.  It  was  through  Eutherfurd  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
spoke  to  William  Guthrie  in  those  accents  which  are  at  once 
irresistible  and  sweet.  Lovable,  high  -  minded,  "  naturally 
Christian "  as  he  had  been  from  boyhood,  he  received  now 
that  touch  of  the  glowing  coal  from  the  Altar  which  cleanses 
the  lips  and  sets  the  heart  on  fire.  He  was  equipped  for  the 
ministry  of  the  Gospel. 

Before  the  ministry  began,  however,  he  proved  his  devotion 
to  Christ.  That  nothing  might  wean  him  from  his  calling,  he 
surrendered  his  right  of  succession  to  the  Pitforthy  estate. 
There  was  one  brother  in  the  household  who  was  not  destined 
for  the  pulpit,  and  to  him  the  heir  to  the  property  made  over  his 
possessions.  He  had  an  overflowing  reward,  even  in  this  life, 
in  his  freedom  from  worldly  entanglements,  in  the  geniality 
and  joyousness  of  his  temperament,  and,  most  of  all,  in  that 
marvellous  and  victorious  power  with  which  his  Master 
endowed  his  preaching.  He  was  one  of  the  men,  whom  some 
count  mad,  "  who,  the  more  they  cast  away,  the  more  they 
have." 

William  Guthrie  was  ready  for  his  lifework.  He  went 
westward,  to  the  county  of  Ayr,  that  he  might  be  tutor  to 
Lord  Mauchline,  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Loudoun.  But  he 
had  not  been  long  in  Loudoun  Castle,  until  he  was  called 
to  undertake   his  coveted   task  of  proclaiming   the   Evangel. 


120  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Preaching  on  a  Fast-day  in  the  neighbouring  town  of  Galston, 
he  had  among  his  listeners  some  Covenanters  from  Fenwick — 
Fenwick  which  had  but  lately  been  endowed  with  a  church 
and  congregation  of  its  own.  They  felt  that  the  young 
licentiate  was  the  minister  whom  God  had  appointed  for  them. 
But  there  were  difficulties  in  the  way.  Lord  Boyd,  the 
superior,  was  an  unbending  Koyalist,  and  he  mistrusted  anyone 
who  came  commended  by  the  Earl  of  Loudoun.  For  a  time 
the  settlement  was  postponed ;  but  the  objections  were  over- 
come in  the  end,  and,  in  November  1644,  the  preacher  was 
ordained.  His  became  a  far-reaching  ministry  ;  and  often  the 
attempt  was  made  to  draw  him  from  his  secluded  countryside. 
But  nothing  could  coax  him  to  forsake  the  early  love.  To  the 
last,  until  the  summer  morning  twenty  years  distant  when  the 
bishops  and  dragoons  drove  him  out,  he  was  loyal  to  Fenwick. 

To  his  manse,  in  the  August  after  his  ordination,  he 
brought  his  wife,  Agnes  Campbell,  who  was  related  in  some 
distant  way  to  Lord  Loudoun.  She  was  a  woman  of  a  gracious 
spirit.  In  after  years,  when  death  had  snatched  him  from  her 
only  too  soon,  she  wrote  letters  instinct  with  good  cheer  to  the 
captives  and  sufferers  of  the  Covenant  whom  she  knew.  But, 
from  the  outset,  the  mistress  of  the  home  had  sharp  experi- 
ence of  the  trials  that  invaded  Presbyterian  households  in  those 
distracted  times.  In  1648,  her  husband  was  present,  with  six 
other  ministers,  at  the  skirmish  on  Mauchline  Moor.  In  1650, 
he  was  with  the  defeated  army  at  Dunbar.  Agnes  Guthrie  had 
an  anxious  heart  during  these  seasons  of  absence.  At  first,  in- 
deed, she  declared  that  he  must  not  leave  her  to  encounter  such 
hazards ;  but  illness  brought  him,  beneath  his  own  rooftree,  to 
the  brink  of  death,  and  she  saw  that,  by  the  hearth  or  in  the 
field,  she  must  intrust  him  to  the  safe  -  keeping  of  God.  It 
would  have  been  a  bootless  enterprise — the  attempt  to  limit 
his  participation  in  his  country's  affairs.  Like  his  spiritual 
kinsfolk,  he  could  not  understand  a  piety  which  was  divorced 
from  patriotism  and  good  citizenship. 

The  minister  of  Fenwick,  says  James  Stirling,  preacher  in 
the  subsequent  generation  in  the  Barony  Church  of  Glasgow, 
was  "  a  great  melancholiau,"  one  of  the  sensitive  and  reflective 


SABBATH  MORNING  IN  FENWICK  121 

and  brooding  souls,  whose  thoughts  plunge  deep  down,  and  whose 
eyes  are  accustomed  to  look  out  on  men  and  the  world  through 
a  mist  of  weeping.  His  frail  body  had  much  to  do  with  the 
pensiveness  of  his  mind ;  all  his  life  long  he  bore  about  with  him 
a  tormenting  sickness ;  and  it  would  have  been  strange  if  one 
who  never  knew  robust  health  had  not  sometimes  been  grave 
and  sad.  Yet,  despite  his  serious  moods,  a  blither  heart  than 
William  Guthrie's  never  beat.  He  laughs  out  of  court  the 
caricature  that  the  Covenanters  were  men  jaundiced  and  fault- 
finding: he  is  a  Covenanter  full  of  merriment.  His  talk 
sparkled  with  humour.  His  nature  delighted  in  friendliness. 
There  were  moments,  he  confessed,  when  his  love  of  fun  carried 
him  too  far ;  and  then  he  shed  salt  tears  in  secret  over  his 
quips  and  jests  in  company.  But  that  was  seldom.  One  day 
he  and  James  Durham  were  together,  in  a  gentleman's  house, 
at  dinner ;  and  he  was  so  mirthful  and  vivacious  that  Durham, 
the  most  composed  of  men,  caught  the  infection,  and  laughed 
again  and  again.  Immediately  after  dinner,  in  accordance 
with  the  custom  of  the  family,  Guthrie  was  asked  to  pray. 
And  such  a  prayer  it  was,  burning  with  divine  fire,  opening 
the  gates  of  heaven,  and  melting  the  spirits  of  the  auditors. 
"  0  Will ! "  Durham  cried,  as  they  rose  from  their  knees,  "  you 
are  a  happy  man.  If  I  had  been  so  daft,  I  could  not  have 
been  in  any  frame  for  eight-and-forty  hours."  "  It  was  often 
observed,"  Wodrow  says,  "  that,  let  Mr.  Guthrie  be  never  so 
merry,  he  was  presently  fit  for  the  most  spiritual  duty ;  and 
the  only  account  I  can  give  of  it,"  continues  the  minister  of 
Eastwood,  "  is  that  he  acted  from  spiritual  principles  in  all 
lie  did,  and  even  in  his  relaxations."  It  is  the  true  solution. 
There  was  no  profane  territory  anywhere  in  this  laughing  and 
weeping  man. 

He  was  a  great  angler.     He  knew  the  spots,  and  resorted 
to  them  frequently,  where 

trout  lit'low  the  blossomed  tree 
Plashed  in  the  golden  stream. 

To  carry  a  rod,  and  to  cast  a  line,  and  to  land  a  fish,  were 
among  his  chief  pleasures.     He  could  have  subscribed  prattling 


122  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Izaak  Walton's  confession  that  "  angling,  after  tedious  study, 
is  a  rest  to  the  mind,  a  cheerer  of  the  spirits,  a  diversion  of 
sadness,  a  calmer  of  unquiet  thoughts,  a  moderator  of  passions, 
a  procurer  of  contentedness."  But  his  supreme  work  was  that 
of  fishing  for  men.  ■  When  he  went  to  Fenwick,  the  spiritual 
condition  of  the  place  was  as  low  as  it  could  be.  Some  of  his 
people  lived  six  or  seven  miles  distant ;  the  country  was  full 
of  morasses ;  there  were  no  proper  roads ;  the  majority  never 
dreamed  of  attending  the  New  Kirk,  as  it  was  named.  They 
gave  the  Sabbath  to  amusement.  They  were  rude  enough, 
here  and  there,  to  close  their  doors  in  their  minister's  face. 
But  he  refused  to  be  discouraged.  In  the  cause  of  Christ  he 
would  not  own  the  possibility  of  defeat. 

Stories  are  recorded  of  his  ingenuity  and  strategy  in  com- 
pelling men,  however  stubborn  they  might  be,  to  look  the 
eternal  things  fairly  in  the  face.  He  would  disguise  himself, 
and  would  get  a  night's  lodging  in  a  cottage,  and  would  talk 
with  the  inmates.  Once  he  transformed  a  poacher  into  an 
elder  and  a  saint.  The  man  said  that,  abroad  in  the  fields 
with  his  gun,  he  had  his  best  sport  when  his  neighbours  were 
safely  shut  within  the  church,  and  that,  each  Monday  morning, 
he  earned  half  a  crown  by  the  sale  of  his  moorfowl  and  hares. 
"  I  will  pay  you  the  half-crown,"  Guthrie  replied,  "  if  you  will 
come  to  the  New  Kirk  next  Sabbath."  The  bargain  was 
struck ;  but,  when  the  offer  was  repeated,  the  bribe  was  re- 
fused. In  God's  house  the  poacher  had  heard  what  was  of 
greater  value  than  a  bushel  of  half-crowns.  He  was  never 
absent  afterwards,  and  ere  long,  with  the  goodwill  of  all,  he 
was  enrolled  an  oiJice-bearer.  There  was  another  time  when 
the  minister  persuaded  a  household  into  the  observance  of 
family  worship.  Dressed  as  a  traveller,  he  found  admission 
to  the  home,  and  was  bidden  stay.  The  hour  came  when  "  the 
Books"  should  be  brought  out;  but  there  was  no  sign  of 
them.  The  stranger  inquired  whether  he  might  not  join  his 
hosts  in  their  evening  devotions;  but  the  goodman  asserted 
that  he  had  no  gift  in  prayer,  and  must  not  essay  a  task  so 
high.  "  Nay,  but  you  ought,"  the  pertinacious  guest  insisted ; 
and  soon  he   had    them   all  kneeling   on    the    kitchen  floor. 


SABBATH  MORNING  IN  FENWICK  123 

"  0  Lord,"  cried  the  abashed  aud  stammering  suppliant,  "  this 
man  would  have  me  to  pray '  but  Thou  knowest  that  I  cannot 
pray."  It  was  a  hopeful  beginning,  the  confession  of  ignorance, 
the  bewailing  of  the  heart's  penury  and  the  mouth's  cowardice. 
And  afterwards,  in  this  house,  the  altar  of  God  was  kept  in 
good  repair. 

William  Guthrie  had  his  recompense.  Soon  his  parish 
became — what  Jewish  tradition  calls  the  home  of  Obed-Edom, 
where  God's  Ark  sojourned — the  Field  of  the  Blessed  Man. 
The  people  turned  his  glebe  into  a  little  town,  so  desirous  they 
were  to  live  in  the  vicinity  of  the  church.  From  every 
district  of  the  west — from  Glasgow,  from  Paisley,  from 
Hamilton,  from  Lanark — crowds  trooped  to  hear  him.  He 
had  "  a  strange  way  of  persuading  sinners  to  close  with  Christ, 
and  answering  all  objections  that  might  be  proposed."  Then, 
too,  he  possessed  "  a  gift,  peculiar  to  himself,  of  speaking  to 
the  common  people  in  their  own  dialect."  And  the  Sacra- 
mental Sabbaths  in  the  New  Kirk  were  preludes  of  heaven 
itself.  James  Hutcheson  of  Killellan  was  assistant  on  one  of 
them ;  and,  over  and  over,  he  would  avow  that,  "  if  there 
was  a  kirk  full  of  saints  in  the  world,  it  was  the  Kirk  of 
Fenwick  that  day";  the  shining  faces  he  had  seen,  and  the 
ecstasies  he  had  shared,  were  never  forgotten  while  life  lasted. 
We  do  not  wonder  that  men  high  in  rank  said  that  they 
"  would  have  been  heartily  content  to  have  lived  under  Mr. 
Guthrie's  ministry,  though  they  had  been  but  in  the  station  of 
poor  ploughmen."  It  would  have  been  a  wise  exchange,  and 
they  must  have  gained  more  than  they  lost. 

The  fruitful  ministry  liad  its  headquarters  in  Fenwick ; 
but  its  beneficence  was  widely  diffused.  The  preacher 
travelled  up  and  down  all  the  western  shires ;  and,  wherever 
he  spoke,  souls  born  into  the  liberties  of  the  New  Jerusalem 
followed  him  with  gratitude.  Wodrow  has  a  tale  of  a 
Glasgow  merchant,  who,  coming  from  Ireland,  was  forced  to 
spend  a  Sabbath  in  Arran,  and  was  annoyed  witli  the  mis- 
giving that  he  would  hear  no  sermon  except  in  Gaelic.  But, 
when  he  went  to  the  church,  Guthrie  was  in  the  pulpit.  It 
was  a  day  when   tlic  wind  of  tlio  Spirit  carried  everything 


124  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

before  its  unconquerable  onset.  "  There  was  scarce  a  hearer 
without  tears,  and  many  old  people,  in  particular,  weeping." 
Christ's  footfall  accompanied  His  ambassador  on  all  his 
pilgrimages.  Thus  it  happened  once,  north  in  Angus,  when 
he  was  journeying  to  the  old  home  in  Pitforthy.  In  the 
darkness  he  lost  his  way,  and,  after  some  hours,  discovered 
himself  in  the  policies  of  a  gentleman  whom  he  knew  to  be 
unrelentingly  opposed  to  the  Covenanters.  He  knocked  at  the 
door  of  the  mansion,  and  was  invited  to  enter.  Soon  he  had 
to  confess  himself  a  minister ;  and  then  he  craved  permission 
to  pray.  It  was  granted,  although  the  master  of  the  house 
"carried  pretty  abstractedly."  But  the  prayer  moved  the 
three  daughters  of  the  home  as  they  had  never  been  moved 
before.  Next  day  the  curate  had  to  stand  aside,  that  the 
unexpected  guest  might  preach  in  his  stead ;  "  and  these  three 
young  gentlewomen  were  converted  at  that  sermon."  Cures 
flowed  from  this  man,  as  the  clear  water  bubbles  from  the 
mountain-spring  and  refuses  to  be  held  back. 

And  many,  then  and  since,  who  never  heard  him  speak, 
but  have  read  his  gracious  and  golden  little  book.  The 
Christians  Great  Interest,  are  undyingly  in  his  debt.  It  was 
published  in  1659,  and  it  is  not  obsolete  even  now.  It  is  a 
guide  to  the  heart  which  asks  the  road  to  God,  or  which 
wishes  to  be  assured  that  the  road  it  has  been  walking  is 
the  right  one — a  guide  which  does  not  leave  the  wayfarer  in 
the  least  uncertainty.  There  are  no  mists  in  its  pages,  no 
ambiguities,  no  needless  verbiage :  all  is  plain  and  simple. 
Here  is  a  crystal  clearness  of  thought,  an  unfailing  sanity 
of  statement,  a  rich  pithiness  of  phrase.  "  It  is  my  vadc- 
mecum,"  John  Owen  said ;  "  I  carry  it  and  the  Sedan  New 
Testament  still  about  with  me.  I  have  written  several  folios  ; 
but  there  is  more  divinity  in  it  than  in  them  all." 

But  the  storm  gathered.  Guthrie  never  liad  reposed  much 
faith  in  Charles  Stuart.  Visiting,  in  1660,  in  the  house  of  Sir 
Daniel  Carmichael,  the  Treasurer  Depute  of  the  Kingdom, 
he  found  everyone  jubilant  over  the  home-coming  of  the 
sovereign ;  but,  when  he  led  the  family  in  their  devotions, 
this  was  his  ominous  forecast,  "  Lord,  Thou  knowest  how  soon 


SABBATH  MORNING  IN  FENWICK  125 

this  man  may  welter  iu  the  best  blood  of  Scotland."  Sir 
Daniel  was  "  a  little  roughsome "  over  the  half-treasonable 
speech;  no  doubt,  he  remembered  it  in  the  later  months 
when  its  prophecy  was  receiving  a  fulfilment  only  too 
complete  and  tragic.  For  the  minister  himself  there  was  a 
short  respite.  It  was  due  in  part  to  that  beautiful  courtesy 
which  won  for  him,  Protester  as  he  was,  a  kindlier  considera- 
tion than  was  extended  to  his  fellows.  "  They  that  made  Mr. 
Guthrie  a  minister,"  one  of  his  elders  said,  "  spoiled  a  good 
Malignant."  Then  he  had  two  friends  at  Court,  the  Earl  of 
Eglintoun  and  the  Earl  of  Glencairn,  the  latter  of  whom  could 
not  forget  his  helpfulness  when  his  own  fortunes  were  at 
their  lowest.  For  four  years  after  the  Eestoration  Fenwick 
kept  the  man  whom  it  revered. 

Glencairn  and  Eglintoun  postponed  the  blow;  but  they 
could  not  avert  it.  The  patience  of  Archbishop  Fairfoul  was 
at  length  exhausted;  "he  is  a  ringleader  of  sedition  in  my 
diocese,"  he  answered  when  the  noblemen  appealed  to  him. 
In  July  1G64,  the  familiar  voice  was  heard  for  the  last  time. 
It  was  a  Sabbath  morning.  On  the  preceding  Wednesday 
Guthrie  had  held  a  congregational  Fast,  preaching  from  the 
regretful  cry  of  Hosea,  0  Israel,  tJiou  hast  destroyed  thyself  I 
Now,  for  his  final  message,  he  chose  a  softer  word,  the  word 
of  hope  which  follows,  But  in  3Ie  is  thine  help.  At  four 
o'clock,  in  the  cool  and  clear  summer  dawn,  the  congregation 
assembled.  Twice  over  their  minister  mounted  the  pulpit, 
making  an  interval  between  his  sermons,  and  in  the  end 
dismissing  the  people  before  nine.  Sorrow  and  anger  were 
in  their  spirits  as  they  turned  away. 

At  noon  the  curate  of  Calder,  the  one  man  willing  to 
perform  the  ungracious  task,  arrived  with  an  escort  of  twelve 
soldiers,  to  suspend  William  Guthrie  from  his  otiice,  and  to 
declare  his  church  vacant.  There  was  some  conversation  in 
the  manse.  The  curate  spoke  of  the  leniency  shown  the 
Covenanting  leader ;  and  he  received  the  reply,  "  I  take  the 
Lord  for  party  to  that,  and  thank  Him  for  it ;  I  look  upon  it 
as  a  door  which  God  opened  to  me  for  preaching  the  Gospel." 
"  I    bless  the  Lord,"  this    true   bishop   continued,  "  He  hath 


126  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

given  me  some  success  and  a  seal  of  my  ministry  upon  the 
consciences  of  not  a  few  that  are  gone  to  heaven,  and  of  some 
that  are  yet  in  the  way  to  it."  By  and  by  he  turned  to  the 
soldiers.  "  As  for  you,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  the  Lord 
may  pardon  you  for  countenancing  this  man  in  this  business." 
One  of  them  retorted,  "  I  trust  we  may  never  do  a  graver 
fault."  "  Well,"  was  the  response,  an  arrow  shot  at  a  venture, 
"  a  little  sin  may  damn  a  man's  soul."  Then  a  blessing  was 
asked,  and  refreshments  were  served  by  the  persecuted  to  the 
persecutors ;  and  curate  and  horsemen  went  to  announce  to  an 
empty  church  the  eviction  of  its  minister. 

But,  though  he  could  no  more  speak  in  his  Master's  name, 
he  lived  on  in  Fenwick  for  a  few  months  longer.  Nothing 
em])ittered  the  sweetness  of  his  disposition.  It  is  a  quaint 
and  quickening  incident  which  John  Howie  recalls,  in  The 
Scots  Worthies,  of  this  period.  The  silenced  minister  and  some 
friends  had  gone  to  the  village  of  Stewarton,  to  hear  a  young 
man  preach.  Coming  home  again,  they  told  him  of  their 
dissatisfaction  with  the  sermon.  "  Ah  ! "  he  said,  "  you  are 
mistaken ;  it  was  an  admirable  sermon."  And  then  he  proposed 
that  they  should  sit  down  on  the  grass,  and  he  would  rehearse 
it  to  them.  So,  "  in  a  good  summer  night,  about  the  sun- 
setting,"  they  "  put  up  at  God's  green  caravanserai,"  finding 
their  sanctuary  under  the  open  sky ;  and  a  second  time  the 
sermon  was  preached  that  day.  But  with  what  a  different 
result !  "  They  thought  it  a  wonderfully  great  one,  because 
of  his  good  delivery  and  their  amazing  love  to  him."  We  are 
enamoured  of  the  man,  who,  instead  of  repining  over  his  own 
misfortunes,  took  such  pains  to  gain  for  a  beginner  the  charity 
of  judges  disposed  to  be  censorious. 

The  end  of  life  was  at  hand  now.  Pursued  by  ill  health, 
he  did  not  grow  stronger  with  the  revolving  seasons ;  he  needed 
a  draught  from  the  river  of  healing  in  the  Paradise  of  God. 
In  1665,  the  brother  to  whom  he  had  bequeathed  Pitforthy 
died ;  and  he  went  north  to  help  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
family  affairs.  But  his  disease  returned  in  an  aggravated 
form.  The  pain  was  agonising ;  again  and  again  it  made  him 
delirious;  "but,"  he  said,  "though  I  should  die  mad,  1  know  1 


SABBATH  MORNING  IN  FENWICK  127 

shall  die  in  the  Lord."  On  the  10th  of  October,  in  the  house 
of  his  brother-in-law,  Laurence  Skinner,  one  of  the  ministers 
of  Brechin,  he  got  his  release  from  the  troublesome  world  ; 
the  faith  was  kept  and  the  crown  attained.  William  Guthrie 
was  only  forty-five,  when  he  laid  down  his  task  and  fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTER  XL 

HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT  AT  PENTLAND. 

THE  Earl  of  Middleton  had  gone,  and  the  Earl  of  Eothes 
ruled  Scotland  in  his  stead.  But  to  the  Covenanters  the 
change  brought  no  escape  from  tyranny  and  no  help  for  pain. 
On  the  contrary,  they  were  plunged  into  rougher  waters  and 
sent  through  fiercer  fires.  The  new  Commissioner  had  his 
better  qualities.  His  judgment  was  clear,  Bishop  Burnet  says, 
and  his  apprehension  quick.  Occasionally  an  evanescent  mood 
of  compassion  prompted  him  to  show  a  little  tenderness  to  the 
persecuted  men — a  mood  to  be  traced  largely  to  the  influence 
of  his  wife,  who  had  been  Lady  Anne  Lindsay,  a  woman  "  dis- 
creet, wise,  virtuous,  and  good."  "  I  would  advise  you,  my  Lady, 
to  keep  your  chickens  in  about,  else  I  may  pick  up  some  of 
them,"  he  would  tell  her,  if  he  caught  sight  of  any  of  the 
outed  ministers  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his  mansion-house  of 
Leslie.  But  such  penitences  were  rare,  and  they  vanished 
speedily.  His  administration  was  to  be  marked  by  a  violence 
even  ruder  and  more  vulgar  than  that  of  his  predecessor.  In 
personal  character  he  can  only  be  described  as  a  thorough- 
paced debauchee  ;  the  bracing  grace  of  self-mastery  was  un- 
known to  him ;  and  his  godly  wife  must  have  wept  in  secret 
over  the  unabashed  scandals  of  her  husband's  conduct.  He 
was  illiterate  too,  in  spite  of  that  clear  judgment  and  quick 
apprehension  of  his,  "  barely  able  to  do  more  than  make  his 
mark";  when  he  wrote,  he  formed  each  letter  singly,  and 
between  the  several  letters  in  a  word  he  would  put  as  great  a 
distance  as  that  between  the  words  themselves.  The  Church 
and  its  defenders  had  nothing  to  hope  for,  and  much  to  dread, 

from  the  ascendency  of  the  Earl  of  Kothes. 

12S 


WILLIAM   GUTHKIE   OF   FENWICK. 
A  Portrait  prefixed  to  some  editions  of  "The  Christian's  Great  Interest." 


HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT  129 

It  was  significant  that,  from  the  first,  his  chief  adviser  was 
the  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews.  If  he  was  himself  keen  to 
amass  plunder,  James  Sharp  was  as  eager  to  inflict  punishment 
on  men  whose  constancy  was  a  stinging  rebuke  to  his  own  faith- 
lessness. Eothes  was  extortionate  and  brutal ;  the  I'relate 
was  revengeful  and  persistent  in  his  enmities ;  with  this 
duumvirate  in  authority  the  prospect  for  .the  friends  of  the 
Covenant  was  gloomy  as  midnight.  When  Parliament  broke 
up  in  the  autumn  of  1663 — a  Parliament  which,  like  one  of  the 
Kings  of  Judah,  departed  without  heiiifj  desired — it  was  well 
understood  that  its  members  were  not  to  be  called  together 
again ;  henceforward  Scotland  was  to  be  managed  by  the  Privy 
Council,  a  body  more  limited,  more  homogeneous,  more  unpity- 
ing  ;  and  in  the  Privy  Council  Sharp  and  Eothes  were  supreme. 
It  was  at  the  instigation  of  the  Primate  that  a  new  step  in 
oppression  was  now  taken.  No  congregations  could  be  found 
for  the  curates ;  in  the  west,  especially,  it  seemed  that  the 
Church  buildings  were  to  be  forsaken ;  more  and  more  the 
spirit  of  resistance  was  abroad.  The  Archbishop  resolved  to 
crush  the  daring  spirit  with  an  arbitrary  hand.  He  went  up  to 
London ;  and,  on  the  plea  that  the  Council  must  be  relieved  of 
some  of  its  business,  he  persuaded  the  King  to  bring  back  the 
obsolete  Court  of  High  Commission,  for  the  summary  trial 
and  conviction  of  all  recusants.  Of  the  re-established  Coiu't 
he  was  to  be  President ;  associated  with  him  were  nine  prelates 
and  thirty-five  laymen ;  and  the  tribunal  had  almost  absolute 
powers  bestowed  on  it.  It  could  summon  to  its  bar  the 
"  obstinate  contemners  of  the  discipline  of  the  Church,"  the 
"  keepers  of  conventicles,"  those  who  "  preached  in  private 
houses  or  elsewhere  without  license  from  the  bishop."  Its 
verdicts  were  final ;  frequently  they  were  pronounced  without 
evidence  being  adduced.  It  imposed  exorbitant  fines  on  men 
and  women  of  rank  who  attended  the  field-preachings,  or 
permitted  them  to  be  held  in  any  corner  of  their  estates.  It 
imprisoned  and  banished  the  ejected  ministers.  Sometimes  it 
ordered  women  to  be  whipped  publicly  through  the  streets. 
Sometimes  it  would  have  young  boys  scourged,  and  branded 
on  the  face  with  a  hot  iron,  and  sold  as  slaves,  to  labour  at 
9 


I30  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  forts  in  Shetland,  or  to  till  the  plantations  in  Virginia  and 
Barbadoes,  where,  as  Governor  Willoughby  testified,  they  were 
the  best  workmen  he  had.  It  declared  that  it  was  sedition  to 
give  a  morsel  of  bread  to  one  of  the  hunted  preachers.  These 
were  the  frightful  prerogatives  of  the  High  Commission  Court, 
and  its  members  felt  no  scruples  about  exercising  them.  The 
Covenanters  were  entering  on  that  long  and  winding  Valley  of 
the  Shadow  of  Death,  from  which  they  were  not  to  emerge  for 
a  quarter  of  a  century. 

For  a  time  they  submitted  in  silence,  although  there  were 
flying  rumours  that  the  chiefs  of  the  party  were  treating 
with  the  Government  of  Presbyterian  Holland.  It  only 
required  a  spark,  and  the  conflagration  would  be  kindled ;  but 
the  spark  was  furnished  neither  by  sympathisers  in  the 
Netherlands  nor  by  the  nobles  at  home.  The  insurrection  had 
a  humbler  origin.  What  we  know  as  the  Pentland  Eising  was 
a  movement  unpremeditated  and  simple  in  its  beginnings. 
Prom  its  sudden  inception  to  its  grievous  close  only  two  weeks 
elapsed.  It  was  like  the  outbreak  of  a  volcano  in  a  West 
Indian  island,  unexpected,  brief-lived,  but  leaving  red  ruin 
behind.  Spontaneous  and  unsuggested,  it  was  the  protest  of 
down-trodden  men  against  taskmasters  whose  cruelties  had 
become  intolerable. 

Por  eight  or  nine  months  Sir  James  Turner  had  commanded 
the  King's  troops  in  the  district  of  Galloway,  having  his 
headquarters  in  Dumfries.  Dugald  Dalgetty  is  familiar  to 
most ;  and  Turner  sat  for  the  portrait  of  the  roving  and  loud- 
voiced  soldier  of  fortune.  He  has  written  his  own  Memoirs, 
to  clear  his  name  from  the  reproaches  which  besmirched  its 
lustre,  and  we  can  see  him  as  he  saw  himself :  the  scholar,  who 
"all ways  tooke  delight  in  the  studie  of  humane  letters  and 
liistorie,"  and  who  had  "  read  the  controversies  of  religion 
betweene  us  and  the  Koman  Catholickes  " ;  the  adventurer,  who 
had  fought,  now  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  in  the  wars 
of  Gustavus  and  Wallenstein,  having  "  swallowed  without 
chewing,  in  Germanic,  a  very  dangerous  maxime,  that,  so 
as  we  serve  our  master  honnestlie,  it  is  no  matter  wliat 
master   we  serve " ;   the   lover   and   husband,   who    found   in 


HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT  131 

Ireland  what  he  valued  more  than  worldly  riches,  his  "  deare 
wife,  Mary  White,"  with  whom  he  was  "  first  acquainted  and 
then  enamourd  at  the  Neurie."  But  the  more  impartial  pages 
of  history  are  scarcely  so  gentle  towards  his  reputation.  In 
Galloway,  "  a  place  and  a  people  fatall  to  me,"  he  harried  the 
Covenanters.  He  protests  his  clemency,  insisting  that  he  was 
far  from  going  to  those  excesses  in  extortion  which  were 
sanctioned  by  his  instructions ;  but  the  truth  remains  that 
hundreds  of  families  were  beggared  by  the  fines  he  exacted. 
Some  years  later,  the  Privy  Council  itself  forced  him  to  answer 
for  his  high-handed  procedure ;  and  matters  must  have  been 
undisguisedly  and  flagrantly  bad  when  a  Court  so  friendly  saw 
reason  to  interpose.  "  Proud,  passionate,  hastie,  and  furieous  " 
he  was  "  caractered  to  be,"  in  Royalist  as  in  Whiggish  coteries. 
Before  his  accusers  he  acknowledged  that  he  had  been  more 
grasping  than  there  was  any  need :  "  to  ease  their  Lordships  of 
further  trouble,  and  show  them  my  oune  ingenuitie,  I  wold 
charge  myselfe  with  threttie  thousand  pounds  Scots "  —  a 
sum  which  must  be  multiplied  by  three,  or  even  by  five,  if  the 
real  condition  of  things  would  be  known.  Is  it  very  extra- 
ordinary that  the  people,  farmers  and  cottars,  were  goaded  into 
revolt  ? 

It  was  near  the  middle  of  November  in  1666.  From  the 
Galloway  hills  four  Covenanters,  one  of  them  the  Laird  of 
Barscob — gaunt  men  who  had  been  hiding  among  the  mosses 
— came  stealing  down,  seeking  food  and  the  shelter  for  one 
night  of  a  kindly  roof,  to  the  clachan  of  Dairy,  not  far  from 
Loch  Ken.  But  it  happened  that  some  of  Sir  James  Turner's 
troopers  were  quartered  there;  and,  when  they  entered  the 
village,  these  soldiers  were  ill-treating  an  old  man,  who  de- 
clared himself  unable  to  pay  the  heavy  fine  exacted  from 
him  because  of  absence  from  the  parish  church.  In  their 
frank  barbarity  they  threatened  to  strip  him  and  set  him  on  a 
red-hot  gridiron.  This  was  more  than  the  four  "  honest  men  " 
could  endure.  Daring  the  troopers  to  do  the  wicked  deed, 
they  found  that  the  villagers  seconded  their  defiance.  The 
thongs  which  tied  the  captive  were  loosed.  Then  the  soldiers 
drew  their  swords,  and,  with  the  gleaming  steel  confronling 


132  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

them,  one  of  the  Covenanters  discharged  his  pistol.  A 
corporal  was  wounded.  "  This,"  Wodrow  says,  "  quickly  made 
the  rest  yield,  and  the  countrymen  disarmed  them  and  took 
them  prisoners,  and  the  poor  old  man  was  happily  delivered." 
Out  of  the  petty  quarrel  sprang  unplanned  a  Eising,  which 
had  crowded  into  it  a  world  of  heroism  and  pathos  and 
pain. 

The  men,  to  whom  pity  and  anger  had  called  imperiously, 
realised  that  they  must  expect  the  vengeance  of  Government. 
They   determined   to   continue   in    arms.     With   the   aid    of 
others   they   captured  one   or  two   little   groups  of   soldiers. 
Then  one  of   the  landlords,  John  Neilson  of  Corsock,  joined 
them ;  and  they  resolved  on  a  bold  experiment.     They  would 
march  rapidly  on  Dumfries,  where  Turner  was  living.     There 
were  now  "  above  ninescore  men,  more  than  the  halfe  wherof 
consisted  of  horsemen,  indifferently  weill  mounted,  with  suords, 
pistolls,  and  carabines ;  the  rest  were  afoot  armed  with  muskets, 
pikes,   suords,  sithes,   and  forkes."     On   the  morning   of   the 
15th  of  November,  between  eight  and  nine,  they  entered  the 
town.     Sir  James    was    unwell   and    in   bed.     Hearing   the 
noise,  he  sprang  up,  and  went  to  a  window,  and  inquired  of 
the  intruders  what  they  wanted.     He  was  told  to  surrender, 
and  he  should  have  fair  quarter.     But  he  needed  no  quarter, 
he  replied,  and  he  could  not  be  a  prisoner,  for  the  country 
was  not  in  a  state  of  war.     "  Prisoner  you  must  be,  or  die," 
came   the   inexorable  answer    from    the    street.     There   was 
nothing   for  it  but  to  let  the  ninescore   invaders  have   their 
will,  and   King  Charles's  officer  rode   out  of  Dumfries  their 
thrall.     For  the  next  fortnight,  through  all  their  marchings, 
he   continued  with  them.     He  had,   as  Gabriel  Sempill,  one 
of  their  number,  said,  "  been  lifted  up  in  pride,  with  insolency 
and   cruelty  over  the  poor  people  " ;  but  his  captors  treated 
him  well.     If  a  few  of  the  wilder  spirits  muttered   that   he 
ought  to  be  put  to  death,  they  were  always  overruled.     His 
worst   sorrow   was   the    Covenanting   grace   before  and  after 
meat:   he  was  "more  overwearied  with  the  tediousness   and 
impertinencies  of  their  graces  "  than  he  was  with  "  the  scarce- 
ness or  badness  "  of  his  food  and  drink.    Sometimes,  too,  Sempill, 


HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT  133 

or  young  Robertson  the  probationer,  or  John  Welsh  himself, 
would  deal  seriously  with  him,  assuring  him  that  they  sought 
the  salvation  of  his  soul.  John  Welsh  prayed  with  him,  "  and 
honord  me  with  the  title  of  God's  servant  who  was  then 
in  bonds,  and  asked  for  my  conversion."  But  the  soil  was 
sterile  and  impervious.  "  To  what  they  spoke  of  my  con- 
version I  said,  it  wold  be  hard  to  turne  a  Turner."  From 
first  to  last,  there  was  never  a  rough  hand  laid  on  the 
persecuting  soldier. 

The  heather  was  on  fire  now.  News  of  the  insurrection 
came  to  the  Privy  Council  with  a  shock  of  surprise — to  the 
Earl  of  Rothes  more  than  any.  So  recently  as  September, 
he  had  sent  to  Lauderdale  a  rose-coloured  picture,  "  All  is 
offer,"  he  wrote,  in  his  egregious  spelling,  "  as  to  anie  other 
teumult  or  ffurdier  trubell."  It  was  the  roughest  of  awaken- 
ings ;  and  in  a  few  days  an  army  of  two  thousand  foot  and 
five  hundred  horse  left  Edinburgh  in  haste.  Its  commander 
is  a  grim  figure,  a  man  with  a  lust  for  slaughter,  whose 
"  every  sentence  scents  of  blood."  Thomas  Dalzell's 
features  have  been  depicted  by  Captain  John  Creichton, 
who  was  among  his  intimates,  and  himself,  as  Dr.  Jonathan 
Swift  certifies,  "of  the  old  Stamp";  and  they  are  features 
to  awaken  astonishment  rather  than  liking. 

"Among  many  other  Officers,  he  was  taken  Prisoner  at 
the  unfortunate  Defeat  at  Worcester,  and  sent  to  the  Tower ; 
from  whence,  I  know  not  by  what  Means,  he  made  his  Escape, 
and  went  to  Muscovy,  where  the  Czar  made  him  his  General. 
But,  some  Time  after  the  Restoration  of  the  Royal  Family, 
repairing  to  King  Charles  the  Second,  he  was  constituted 
Commander-in-Chief  of  his  Majesty's  Forces  in  Scotland.  He 
was  bred  up  very  hardy  from  his  Youth,  both  in  Dyet 
and  Cloathing.  He  never  wore  Boots,  nor  above  one  Coat, 
which  was  close  to  his  Body,  with  close  Sleeves,  like  those 
we  call  Jockey-Coats.  He  never  wore  a  Peruke ;  nor  did 
he  shave  his  Beard  since  the  Murder  of  King  Charles  the 
First.  In  my  Time,  his  Head  was  bald,  which  he  covered 
only  with  a  Beaver  Hat.  His  Beard  was  white  and  bushy, 
and  reached  down  almost  to  his  Girdle.     He  went  to  London 


134  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

once  or  twice  in  a  Year,  only  to  kiss  the  King's  Hand,  who 
had  a  great  Esteem  for  his  Worth  and  Valour,  His  unusual 
Dress  and  Figure  never  failed  to  draw  after  him  a  Crowd  of 
Boys,  and  other  young  People,  who  constantly  attended  at 
his  Lodgings,  and  followed  him  with  Huzzas,  as  he  went  to 
Court,  or  returned  from  it.  As  he  was  a  Man  of  Humour, 
he  would  always  thank  them  for  their  Civilities,  when  he 
left  them  at  the  Door  to  go  in  to  the  King;  and  would  let 
them  know  exactly  at  what  Hour  he  intended  to  come  out 
again.  When  the  King  walked  in  the  Park,  and  Dalzell  in 
his  Company,  his  Majesty  bid  the  Devil  take  Dalzell  for 
bringing  such  a  Eabble  of  Boys  together,  to  have  their  Guts 
squeezed  out,  whilst  they  gaped  at  his  long  Beard  and  antick 
Habit ;  requesting  him  to  shave  and  dress  like  other  Christians, 
to  keep  the  poor  Bairns  out  of  Danger.  In  Comphance,  he 
went  once  to  Court  in  the  very  Height  of  the  Fashion ;  but, 
as  soon  as  the  King  had  laughed  sufficiently  at  the  strange 
Figure  he  made,  he  reassumed  his  usual  Habit,  to  the  great 
Joy  of  the  Boys,  who  had  not  discovered  him  in  his  fashion- 
able Dress."  We  are  thankful  to  Captain  Creichton  for  the 
lifelike  portrait,  even  if  it  amuses  more  than  edifies.  But 
Scottish  Whigs  could  not  laugh  like  London  gamins  at  the 
"  long  Beard  and  antick  Habit,"  for  they  were  worn  by  a 
man  who  scourged  them  with  a  lash  of  scorpions.  "  In 
Muscovia,"  Kirkton  says,  Dalzell  "saw  nothing  but  tyranny 
and  slavery "  ;  and  tyranny  and  slavery  filled  the  cup  he 
mixed  for  his  countrymen. 

Out  from  Edinburgh  Thomas  Dalzell  marched  towards 
Glasgow,  and  up  through  Galloway  came  the  insurgents  into 
Ayrshire.  Despite  "  the  great  rains  and  coldness  of  the 
weather,"  they  increased  as  they  came.  At  the  town  of  Ayr 
Turner  estimated  that  there  were  seven  hundred ;  in  Lanark, 
he  believes,  they  "are  in  their  greatest  strength,  which 
never  exceeded  eleven  hundred  horse  and  foot,  if  they  were 
so  many."  Their  first  leader,  meantime,  deserted  the  camp ; 
Andrew  Gray  was  scarcely  of  the  stuff  of  which  campaigners 
are  made.  But  at  the  Bridge  of  Doon  they  found  a  true 
captain,   James   Wallace    of    Auchans,   a   good    man    and    a 


HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT  135 

skilled  soldier,  who  had  fought  for  the  Parliament  in  the 
Civil  Wars.  We  can  see  him  still,  in  his  long  cloak,  with 
his  montero,  or  huntsman's  cap,  drawn  well  over  his  brow, 
and  his  beard  very  rough.  To  his  Koyalist  prisoner  his 
deportment  was  always  courteous ;  he  is  a  gentleman  to  the 
core.  Along  with  him  other  trained  officers  joined  the  tiny 
army — Major  Learmont,  and  Captain  Ainot,  and  Captain 
Paton  of  Meadowhead,  all  three  men  who,  at  Worcester,  had 
stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  Dalzell  himself.  Under  the 
tuition  of  such  instructors  the  undisciplined  crowd  was  lifted 
into  a  company  of  capable  foemen,  so  that,  against  his  will. 
Sir  James  Turner  was  driven  into  admiration.  At  Lesmahagow 
they  were  put  through  their  exercises ;  and  even  "  the  ranks 
of  Tuscany  can  scarce  forbear  to  cheer."  "  I  saw  tuo  of 
their  troopes  skirmish  against  other  tuo,  which  I  confesse  they 
did  handsomelie,  I  wonderd  at  the  agilitie  of  both  horse 
and  rider,  and  how  they  had  come  to  that  perfection  in  so 
short  a  time."  The  force  was  small ;  but  it  was  far  from 
being  despicable. 

The  Covenanters  were  at  Lanark  on  the  evening  of  the 
25th  of  November;  and,  next  day,  crowding  round  the 
Tolbooth  stairs,  they  renewed  the  Covenant  and  published 
a  Declaration.  It  asserted  their  unchanged  regard  for  the 
King;  but  it  enumerated,  too,  their  reasons  for  taking  up 
arms.  Had  not  the  Solemn  League  been  burned  by  the 
Government  ?  Had  not  Episcopacy  been  established  ?  Were 
there  not  fines,  imprisonments,  the  quartering  of  soldiers,  the 
inquisitions  of  the  High  Commission  Court  ?  Unforeseen 
and  impulsive  as  the  uprising  was,  it  could  justify  itself. 

But  it  was  ordained  to  failure.  Perhaps  those  were  wisest, 
from  the  military  viewpoint,  who  would  have  coaxed  Dalzell 
to  fight  at  Lanark,  more  numerous  as  his  soldiers  were.  For 
then  the  army  of  the  Covenant  was  at  its  best ;  and  every  day 
that  succeeded  drained  its  vigour  and  diminished  its  hope.  But 
the  wish  of  the  majority  was  to  push  on  to  Edinburgh,  where 
friends,  it  was  thought,  waited  to  welcome  them.  Forward 
they  went,  to  disappointment  after  disappointment.  Two 
hundred  turned  back,  alleging  as  excuse  their  disapproval  of 


136  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  course  which  had  been  adopted.  Comrades,  whose  help 
was  counted  on,  lingered  at  home.  Envoys  came  from  Dalzell, 
suggesting  questions  and  apprehensions.  More  formidable 
still  was  the  pitiless  weather;  nothing  could  be  wilder;  the 
stars  in  their  courses  seemed  to  fight  against  the  saints.  "  To 
Bathgate  they  came  through  pitifull  broken  moores  in  ane 
extraordinary  dark  and  rainy  night,  and  two  houres  after 
daylight  was  gone.  No  accommodation  can  they  find  there 
to  men  wett,  weary,  and  spent ;  and,  about  twelve  o'clock  at 
night,  upon  ane  alarm  from  the  enemy,  they  are  constrained 
to  begin  their  march  toward  the  New-bridge,  whither,  when 
they  were  come  in  the  morning,  they  looked  rather  like  dying 
men  than  souldiers  going  to  conquer.  It  would  have  pitied 
a  heart  to  see  so  many  faint,  half-drowned,  half-starved 
creatures  betwixt  their  enemies  behind  and  their  enemies 
before."  To  complete  their  sorrows,  they  found  no  help  in 
the  Lothians.  When,  late  on  the  27th,  they  were  within 
five  miles  of  Edinburgh,  they  discovered  that  the  city  was 
arming  to  resist  them,  and  that  the  Provost,  Sk  Andrew 
Eamsay,  had  devised  a  new  oath,  binding  the  townsfolk  to 
defend  the  King's  authority.  The  dirge  had  deepened  every 
hour.  But,  in  scorn  of  the  torrents  of  rain,  the  cold,  the 
fatigue,  the  hostile  town,  the  regiments  of  Dalzell,  they  kept 
unshaken  their  courage.  We  may  compare  them  to  that 
statue  of  Fortitude,  which  Botticelli  fashioned,  and  which 
Mr.  Euskin  described,  not  announcing  themselves  clearly 
and  proudly,  with  tower-like  shields  and  lion-like  helmets, 
nor  standing  confidently  ready  for  all  comers ;  no,  but  they 
are  worn  somewhat,  and  not  a  little  weary,  and  their  fingers 
play  restlessly  and  even  nervously  about  the  hilt  of  their 
swords ;  and  yet  how  swiftly  and  gladly  the  playing  fingers 
will  close  on  the  sword-hilt,  when  the  far-off  trumpet  blows ! 

Their  hearts  might  be  unafraid ;  but  their  eyes  were 
opened.  They  saw  clearly  enough  now  that  there  was  no 
hope.  They  were  not  unwilling  to  die,  they  said,  for  the 
cause  of  religion  and  liberty.  Meantime,  however,  a  retreat 
was  necessary.  So,  early  on  the  morning  of  November  28th, 
"  a  fair,  frosty  day  "  at  last.  Colonel  Wallace  led  his  men  round 


SIR  JAMES   TURNER. 

From  the  Engraving  by  Robert  White. 

Through  the  kindness  oj  Messrs.  T.  C.  and  E.  C.  Jack  of  Edinburgh. 


HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT  137 

the  eastern  end  of  the  Pentland  Hills,  and  then  along  their 
southern   slope,  until    they   crossed   a   narrow   defile   which 
intersects  the  range.     Here,  on  the  incline,  he  posted  them, 
either   that   they  might  rest  for  a   little,  or  that  he  might 
ascertain    what    Dalzell's    intentions    were.      He    was   soon 
enlightened.     Through  the  pass,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
glen,  the  three  thousand  of  the  enemy  appeared,  the  horsemen 
leading  the  way,     A  skirmish  of  the  cavalry  followed.  King's 
men  and  Covenant  men  firing  at  first  across  the  ravine ;  but, 
coming  to  a  level  place,  they  discarded  musket   for   sword, 
and  grappled  closely  with  each  other.     The  Covenanters  had 
the  best  of  it,  although  they  lost  two  of  their  band,  John 
Crookshank  and  Andrew  M'Cormick,  ministers  from  Ulster 
with  militant  souls.     But  now  General  Dalzell's  entire  forces 
had  been  got  into  position.     It  was  no  child's  task  set  them  to 
fulfil.     The  nine  hundred  Whigs  could  not  be  easily  dislodged 
from  their  vantage-ground;   they  had  been   drawn  up   with 
strategy  and  foresight.     Twice  over,  the  Eoyalist  commander 
saw  his  Guardsmen  turn  and  flee ;  his  opponents  had  resolved 
"  never  to  break  until  He  who  brought  them  together  should 
Himself  break  them."     But  when  the  whole  strength  of  the 
King's  troops  was  led  into  action,  the  Covenanters  were  over- 
whelmed by  the  sheer  weight  of  numbers.     "  Being  oppressed 
with  multitude,"  Colonel  Wallace  says,  "  we  were  beaten  back, 
and  the  enemy  came  in  so  full  a  body,  and  with  so  fresh  a 
charge,  that,  having  us  once  running,  they  carried  it  strongly 
home,  and  put  us  in  such  confusion  that  there  was  no  rallying." 
The  marvel  is  that,  ill-armed  and  exhausted,  they  had  behaved 
with  such  gallantry  and  had  maintained  their  ground  so  long. 
Forty  or  fifty  were  killed,  sixty  or  seventy  taken ;  but  the 
larger  proportion,  favoured  by  the  gathering  twilight  of  the 
short  November  day,  made  their  escape  over  the  hills. 

John  Howie  has  a  Eembrandtesque  story  of  the  flight  of 
Captain  Paton.  Dalzell  saw  him  go,  and,  knowing  his  prowess, 
ordered  three  troopers  to  follow  him.  They  came  up  with 
their  quarry  in  front  of  a  marshy  pool,  out  of  which,  on  the 
farther  bank,  three  Galloway  men  were  with  difficulty  pulling 
their  horses.     Turning,  these  Covenanters  saw  the  plight  of 


138  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

their  captain.  "  What  will  you.  do  ? "  they  cried..  He 
answered  gaily  that  he  had  but  three  antagonists  with  whom 
to  reckon.  Urging  his  horse  forward,  he  leaped  the  pool,  and 
then,  with  sword  drawn,  faced  about  and  waited  for  his 
enemies.  One  of  -them  came  close  behind,  but  "  his  doom  was 
writ."  .  The  captain's  naked  brand  descended  on  his  head, 
and  cleft  it  in  two.  The  poor  cavalier's  steed  stumbled 
backwards  into  the  morass,  and  carried  along  with  it  the  other 
men  who  had  leaped  behind  their  comrade.  "  Take  my 
compliments  to  your  master,"  John  Paton  said  to  them, 
struggling  there  in  the  mire,  "  and  tell  him  that  I  cannot  sup 
with  him  to-night."  Howie  adds  that  he  had  himself  seen  the 
famous  sword.  "  It  was  then  counted  to  have  twenty-eight 
gaps,  which  made  his  children  observe  that  there  were  just 
as  many  years  of  the  persecution  as  there  were  broken  pieces 
in  its  edge." 

And  as  for  the  brave  commander  who  would  have  trans- 
muted Pentland  into  a  victory,  if  that  had  not  been  "an 
undertaking  for  a  man  of  miracles  " — his  native  land  saw  him 
no  more.  James  Wallace  fled  to  the  Continent,  where  he 
wandered  from  place  to  place,  chased  by  the  vindictive  rage 
of  Charles's  ministers.  In  the  end  of  1678,  twelve  winters 
after  he  had  demeaned  himself  so  valorously  on  Bullion 
Green,  he  died  in  Eotterdam,  "lamented  of  all  the  serious 
English  and  Dutch  of  his  acquaintance."  But  he  escaped  the 
sadder  griefs  dealt  out  to  those  who  stayed  in  Scotland.  The 
prisoners,  the  majority  of  whom  were  crowded  into  the 
"  Haddock's  Hole,"  a  portion  of  the  High  Church  of  Edinburgh, 
had  surrendered  on  a  promise  of  mercy.  But  James  Sharp 
presided  at  the  Council ;  and  mercy  was  not  a  word  in  his 
vocabulary.  Eleven  men  were  dragged  before  the  Criminal 
Court ;  they  pleaded  the  engagement  that  their  lives  should 
be  spared.  "You  were  pardoned  as  soldiers,"  the  casuistic 
answer  ran,  "  but  you  are  not  acquitted  as  subjects."  They 
were  condemned  to  be  hanged  at  the  Cross.  After  death,  their 
heads  and  right  arms  were  to  be  cut  off;  the  former  to  be 
placed  above  the  City  gates,  the  latter — the  arms  which  a  few 
days  previously  were  lifted   to   swear  the  Covenant — to  be 


HOW  COLONEL  WALLACE  FOUGHT     139 

fixed  to  the  prison  doors  at  Lanark.  The  barbarous  sentence 
was  borne  with  unweeping  eyes.  And  that  was  but  the 
beginning.  In  Ayr  seven  others  were  led  to  the  scaffold ;  for 
Dalzell  had  gone  west  to  "  settle  that  country,"  a  work  which, 
he  declared,  "  I  am  confident  is  not  possible  to  do  without  the 
inhabetens  be  remouet  or  destroiet " :  he,  at  least,  is  always 
consistent  in  ferocity.  In  Glasgow  the-  prisons  overflowed 
with  "  meane  beggarlie  fellowes,  but  stubborn  in  their  wicked 
and  rebeleous  way."  Eothes  writes  despairingly  about  them, 
and  their  kith  and  kin,  that  "  the  Barbadoes  does  not  in  the 
least  terrify  them,  damn'd  ffulls ! "  In  ruddy  lifeblood,  the 
blood  of  men  who  asked  nothing  except  freedom  to  worship 
God  as  their  consciences  bade,  the  Pentland  Eising  was  choked 
and  quenched. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

EPHRAIM  MACBRIAR  OR  SIR  GALAHAD  ? 

WHEN  great  talents  are  abused," — it  is  Thomas  M'Crie 
who  criticises  Sir  Walter  Scott — "  when  they  are 
exerted  to  confound  the  distinctions  between  virtue  and  vice, 
to  varnish  over  oppression  and  injustice,  and  to  throw  ridicule 
upon  those  who  resist  these  scourges  of  society,  they  ought  not 
to  screen  the  possessor  from  condemnation  and  censure.  He  is 
doubly  criminal :  he  sins  in  patronising  a  bad  cause  ;  and  he  sins 
in  prostituting  to  its  support  those  talents  which,  by  the  very 
law  of  his  nature,  he  was  bound  to  use  for  an  opposite  purpose." 

The  verdict  is  uncompromising;  and  through  the  whole 
Revieiu  of  the  Talcs  of  My  Landlord  the  fencer  uses  a  foil 
without  the  dulling  button  on  its  point.  He  has  a  wonder- 
ful mastery  of  his  keen-edged  weapon.  The  great  magician, 
"  whose  worst,"  as  William  Hazlitt  says,  "  is  better  than  any 
other  person's  best,"  and  whom  it  is  not  a  joy  only  but  a 
liberal  education  to  follow,  stands  convicted  of  partiality  and 
prejudice.  He  has  allowed  his  antipathies  to  turn  him  into 
tortuous  paths,  and  he  merits  the  castigation  meted  out  to 
him.  If  we  may  believe  trustworthy  witnesses,  he  winced 
under  it,  and  was  half-ashamed  of  some  of  the  things  he 
had  written.  The  swordsman  whom  he  had  encountered  was, 
in  this  instance,  more  perfectly  equipped  than  himself. 

In  the  pages  of  Old  Mortality — and,  if  it  were  juster  in  its 
portraiture  of  the  blue-bonneted  Whigs,  it  would  rank  among 
the  supreme  books  of  literature — there  are  three  incidents  in 
which  the  Eev.  Ephraim  Macbriar  is  chief  figure.  He,  with 
those  ridiculous  brethren  of  his,  Gabriel  Kettledrumnde  and 
Peter  Poundtext  and  Habakkuk  Mucklewrath,  comes  before 


EPHRAIM  MACBRIAR  OR  SIR  GALAHAD?       141 

the  reader  as  Scott's  impersonation  of  what  the  ministers  of 
the  poor  and  disagreeable  Covenanters  must  have  been  like. 
Poor  and  disagreeable  indeed !  For,  says  John  Graham  of 
Claverhouse  to  Henry  Morton, "  there  is  a  difference,  I  trust, 
between  the  blood  of  learned  and  reverend  prelates  and 
scholars,  of  gallant  soldiers  and  noble  gentlemen,  and  the  red 
puddle  that  stagnates  in  the  veins  of  psalm-singing  mechanics, 
crack-brained  demagogues,  and  sullen  boors."  Among  the 
demagogues  Ephraim  Macbriar  has  the  place  of  honour ;  and 
Ephraim  Macbriar  is  Sir  Walter's  delineation  of  Hugh  Mackail. 
No  doubt,  Mackail  had  run  his  brief  race  thirteen  winters  before 
Drumclog  and  Bothwell  Brig  were  fought;  and  it  is  round 
Drumclog  and  Bothwell  that  the  persons  and  events  of  Old 
Mortality  are  grouped.  But  we  offend  against  the  liberties  of 
the  realm  of  imagination,  if  we  demand  strict  chronology  in  the 
chapters  of  a  romance.  Hugh  Mackail,  there  can  be  little 
question,  was  the  original  of  the  young  preacher  who  pursues 
Jiis  active  and  dogmatic  and  eloquent  way  through  the 
engrossing  and  misleading  tale. 

We  are  confronted  first  with  Ephraim  Macbriar  after  the 
Covenanters  have  gained  Drumclog.  Hardly  twenty  years  old  he 
is ;  but  already,  though  he  is  half  an  invalid,  he  has  gone  through 
the  vigils,  the  rigours,  the  imprisonments  of  a  veteran.  He 
throws  his  faded  eyes  over  the  multitude  and  over  the  scene  of 
battle ;  and  a  light  of  triumph  rises  in  his  glance.  His  hands 
are  folded,  his  face  is  raised  to  heaven,  and  he  is  lost  in  mental 
prayer  before  he  addresses  the  people.  His  sermon  follows,  a 
sermon  outlined  not  ungenerously.  If  he  is  not  free  from  the 
coarseness  of  his  sect,  he  is  an  orator  who  understands  liow 
to  compel  masses  of  men.  He  paints  the  desolation  of  the 
Church.  She  is  like  Hagar,  watching  the  waning  life  of  lier 
l)oy  in  the  fountainless  desert ;  like  Judah,  mourning  for  her 
Temple ;  like  Eachel,  weeping  for  her  children.  He  fans  into 
new  heat  the  souls  of  the  men  who  have  just  returned  from 
pursuing  Claverhouse.  Everyone's  heart  is  to  be  as  the  heart 
of  Maccabaeus,  everyone's  hand  as  the  hand  of  Samson,  every- 
one's sword  as  the  sword  of  Gideon  which  turned  not  back 
from  the  slaughter.     There  are  false  notes  here  and  there ;  but 


142  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

there  is  no  deliberate  injustice.  We  see  the  wounded  for- 
getting their  pain,  the  hungry  their  privations,  as  they  hsten 
to  truths  which  identify  their  cause  with  that  of  God  Himself. 

It  is  different  when  we  meet  Macbriar  again.  He  is  a 
murderer,  in  effect  and  purpose,  although  his  wicked  intention 
is  happily  frustrated.  We  are  in  the  house  at  Drumshinnel, 
after  the  rout  at  Bothwell ;  and  "  the  pale-eyed  and  ferocious 
zealots "  are  gathered  in  conclave ;  and  Henry  Morton  has 
unwittingly  placed  himself  in  their  power — Henry  Morton, 
who  fought  for  them  a  few  hours  before,  but  whom  they  re- 
gard as  a  man  spurning  the  light.  There  is  no  relenting,  no 
gentleness,  in  their  souls.  It  is  Macbriar  who  pronounces  the 
Laodicean's  doom.  "  This  is  the  Sabbath,  and  our  hand  shall 
not  be  on  thee  to  spill  thy  blood  upon  this  day ;  but,  when  the 
twelfth  hour  shall  strike,  it  is  a  token  that  thy  time  on  earth 
hath  run."  Dr.  M'Crie  grants  that  a  scene  so  gruesome  might 
happen  in  connection  with  those  less  religious  spirits  who  some- 
times forced  themselves  into  the  battalions  of  the  Covenant 
— men  hurried  by  suffering  into  desperation  and  madness. 
But  it  is  a  perverse  caricature  to  ascribe  such  revenges  to  the 
Presbyterian  ministers.  The  extremists  among  them  would 
not  have  dreamed  of  staining  their  hands  with  Henry 
Morton's  blood.  Least  of  all,  would  Hugh  Mackail,  who  was 
as  humane  as  he  was  earnest,  have  stooped  to  the  atrocity. 

One  other  glimpse  of  Ephraim  Macbriar  is  given  us.  No 
fault  can  be  found  with  it ;  for  the  painter  reproduces  the 
facts  of  the  history.  It  is  the  terrible  and  yet  splendid  recital 
of  how  Mackail  was  tortured,  and  bore  his  intrepid  testimony, 
before  tlie  Privy  Council  in  Edinburgh.  When  the  scene 
becomes  so  lofty  and  so  woeful,  Sir  Walter  is  a  partisan  no 
more ;  none  can  be  honester  or  more  generous ;  and  we  see 
him  at  his  best. 

But  we  linger  when  we  ought  to  be  cultivating  the  friend- 
ship of  the  young  Covenanter  himself. 

The  men  who  went  to  the  scaffold  for  their  share  in  the 
Pentland  Kising  are  all  worth  knowing.  Their  courage  was 
fed  from  a  personal  religion  of  the  most  vital  sort.  There  is  a 
kind  of  unstudied  melody  too,  a  rhythm  and  a  cadence,  in  their 


EPHRAIM  MACBRIAR  OR  SIR  GALAHAD?       143 

last   utterances.     Tlius    Captain  Andrew   Arnot,    one   of   ten 

executed   on  the  7th  of  December,  sang  his  swan-song:  "I 

confess  that  unexpectedly  I  am  come  to  this  place,  though 

sometimes  I  have  had  some  small  thoughts  of  it;  and  I  do 

account  myself  highly  honoured  to  be  reckoned  amongst  the 

witnesses  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  suffer  for  His  name,  truth,  and 

cause;   and  this  day  I  esteem  it  my  glory,  garland,  crown, 

and  royal  dignity  to  fill  up  a  part  of  His  sufferings."     Or  let 

us  listen  to  Alexander  Eobertson,  probationer  for  the  ministry, 

who   ended   his  battle   seven  days  later:  "I  bless  Him  that 

gave  me  a  life  to  lose  and  a  body  to  lay  down  for  Him ;  and, 

although  the  market  and  price  of  truth  may  appear  to  many 

very  high,  yet  I  reckon  it  low,  and  all  that  I  have  or  can  do 

little  and  too  little  for  Him  who  gave  Himself  for  me  and  to 

me."     Or  this  is  how  a  Glasgow  merchant,  John  Wodrow,  who 

is  to  suffer  side  by  side  with  Mackail,  writes  on  his  dying  day 

to  his  wife :  "  0  my  Heart,  come  and  see,  I  beseech  you  !     I 

thought  I  had  known  something  of  my  dearest  Lord  before. 

But  never  was  it   so   with  me  as  since  I  came   within    the 

walls  of  this  prison.     He  is  without  all  com]3arison.     O,  love, 

love   Him!     0,   taste   and   see!   and   that   shall   resolve   the 

question  best."     Or  it  is  John  Wilson,  who  lauds  his  Friend 

of  friends  ere  he  goes  to  look  into  His  face :  "  I  assure  you 

Christ  is  a  good  Master  to  serve ;  if  ye  knew  Him  rightly  and 

His  Cross,  it  is  sweet  and  easy ;  for  He  maketh  death  to  be 

life,  and  bringeth  light  out  of  darkness.     I  desire  to  follow 

the  blessed  Captain  of  my  salvation  through  weal  and  woe." 

These   men  were  poets  in  the  moment  and  article  of   death. 

Every  one  of  them  sang  unto  the  Lord  a  new  song. 

But  Hugh  Mackail  was  prince  of  the  little  company.  He 
was  the  son  of  Matthew  Mackail,  who  was  parish  minister  of 
Bothwell,  until  he  had  to  leave  his  pulpit  in  1662.  From  the 
first  the  boy  was  an  exceptional  child.  There  was  a  delicate 
beauty  about  his  looks,  which  lie  never  lost,  and  which  stirred 
the  compassion  of  the  spectators  as  he  passed  along  tlie  High 
Street  to  die.  He  had  the  instincts  of  the  scholar.  While  he 
was  only  a  lad,  he  could  speak  with  a  warm  eloquence  which 
touched  those  who  heard.     Better  still,  he  was  consecrated  to 


144  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

God  from  the  beginning ;  "  all  his  heart  was  drawn  above." 
There  was  about  him  the  indescribable  gift  of  charm.  When  he 
was  taken  all  too  early  from  the  Church  and  land,  verses  were 
written  in  praise  of  this  Lycidas  of  the  Covenant. 

Some  great  thing  sparkled  in  the  bhishing  face  ; 
Integrity  that  lovely  brow  did  grace. 

And,  behind  forehead  and  features,  the  mourners  had  descried 
endowments  more  desirable — 

A  sprightly  mind,  and  unacquaint  with  guile, 
Which  with  no  baseness  did  itself  defile  ; 
A  divine  soul,  not  made  to  vice  a  drudge, 
A  palace  where  the  graces  chose  to  lodge. 

Young  Lycidas  indeed,  who  "  hath  not  left  his  peer." 

In  1661,  when  he  was  twenty,  the  Presbytery  licensed  him 
to  preach.  Previously  he  had  been  tutor,  and  he  still  con- 
tinued chaplain,  in  the  household  of  Sir  James  Stewart  of 
Coltness,  one  of  the  laymen  to  whom  the  cause  of  the  Cove- 
nant was  dear.  The  boy-preacher  was  not  to  have  many 
opportunities  of  public  address.  His  last  sermon  was  spoken 
in  St.  Giles  in  September  1662.  In  it  he  denounced  the  states- 
men and  prelates,  who  were  robbing  Christ's  sheep  of  the 
shepherds  whom  they  trusted.  Some  of  his  words  were  never 
forgotten  by  his  friends,  and  never  forgiven  by  his  adversaries. 
"  The  fountain,"  he  said,  "  whence  violence  flows,  may  be  great 
power,  which  the  Church  cannot  reach.  The  Scripture  doth 
abundantly  evidence  that  the  people  of  God  have  been  perse- 
cuted, sometimes  by  a  Pharaoh  upon  the  Throne,  sometimes 
by  a  Haman  in  the  State,  sometimes  by  a  Judas  in  the  Church." 
Men  and  women  were  not  tardy  in  assigning  the  names  to  the 
persons  whom  they  fitted ;  and  that  of  Judas  was  instantaneously 
apportioned  to  James  Sharp.  But  Sharp  was  an  antagonist 
who,  when  he  was  angered,  knew  how  to  bide  his  time,  and 
then  struck  his  blow  with  fatal  effect  and  once  for  all. 

Whether  or  no  Hugh  Mackail  had  in  his  mind  such  special 
applications  of  his  words,  he  learned  quickly  that  he  must 
sutler  the  consequences  of  his  temerity.     A  party  of  horsemen 


THE  CKOWN  OF  ST.   GILES. 


EPHRAIM  MACBRIAR  OR  SIR  GALAHAD?       145 

was  sent  to  Goodtrees,  Sir  James  Stewart's  house  near  Edin- 
burgh, to  apprehend  the  chaplain.  He  escaped,  "  upon  almost 
no  more  than  a  moment's  advertisement " ;  and,  after  hiding 
for  a  time  with  his  father,  he  managed  to  cross  the  seas  to  the 
Continent.  We  have  no  certain  information  of  his  whereabouts 
for  three  years;  but  one  may  guess  that  his  home  was  in 
Kotterdam,  the  city  of  Erasmus,  and  the  shelter  for  most  of 
the  refugees  from  the  moss-hags  of  Clydesdale  and  Galloway. 
Here  he  would  be  able  to  converse  with  John  Livingston,  and 
with  Eobert  MacWard,  exiled  for  a  sermon  preached  in  the 
Tron  Kirk  of  Glasgow,  and  with  John  Brown  of  Wam- 
phray,  whose  writings  form  a  library  in  themselves.  Here, 
too,  he  could  worship  on  Sabbaths  in  the  Scots  church,  with 
the  congregation  to  which,  twenty  years  before,  Alexander 
Petrie  had  come  from  his  Perthshire  manse.  These  months 
were  a  growing  time  in  Mackail's  history.  "  During  all  this 
space,"  the  quaint  old  Memoir  avers,  "  he  was  most  seriously 
exercised  in  the  study  of  piety  and  true  knowledge,  wherein,  as 
he  greatly  advanced  above  all  his  equals,  so  at  length  he  became 
most  eminent  and  exemplary."  As  Paul  did  in  Arabia,  and 
as  John  did  in  Patmos,  he  climbed  steadily  upward. 

He  is  back  in  Scotland,  when  next  we  light  on  him.  Some- 
where  in  the  west,  he  joined  the  insurgents  who  were  marching 
to  the  reverse  of  Eullion  Green.  He  was  physically  weak. 
There  was  always  that  hectic  flush  on  his  cheek  which  the 
victors  at  Drumclog  saw  on  Ephraim  Macbriar's ;  and  of  late 
it  had  grown  brighter  and  more  prophetic.  In  Ayr,  William 
Veitch  says,  "  the  worthy  Hugh  Mackail  would  have  fallen  off 
his  horse,  if  one  had  not  laid  hold  of  him  and  kept  him  up." 
But  on  he  pressed  with  the  fated  army,  through  the  pelting 
rains,  over  the  miry  roads  and  sodden  fields,  when  he  should 
have  been  resting  in  some  Chamber  of  Peace.  At  Colinton, 
however,  before  the  battle  began,  he  was  compelled  to  give  in  ; 
the  strain  on  his  sensitive  constitution  had  proved  too  terrible. 
Leaving  the  encampment,  he  was  making  his  way  across  the 
open  country  to  Liberton,  where  his  father  had  found  a  tempor- 
ary home.  But  on  the  road  he  was  taken  prisoner.  It  looked 
as  if,  had  he  been  desirous,  he  might  have  avoided  the  danger. 


146  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

"  It  is  indisputable  that,  had  he  but  retained  and  observed  the 
least  of  that  advertency  and  caution  wherein  at  other  times  he 
was  known  to  be  both  ready  and  very  happy,  he  might,  without 
either  hazard  or  trouble,  have  escaped."  Doubtless  there  were 
divine  reasons  for  another  issue.  "  God  did  thus,  by  his 
simplicity  and  folly,  prepare  the  way  for  His  own  glory  and 
His  servant's  joy  and  victory."  It  was  the  faith  of  the  Cove- 
nanters that  nothing  can  fall  out  by  chance. 

But  they  were  scorching  fires  into  which  Hugh  Mackail 
was  cast.  His  friends  had  fought  at  Pentland,  and  had  lost 
the  day.  The  Earl  of  Eothes  was  beside  himself  with  rage. 
The  insurrection,  he  concluded,  was  part  of  a  cunningly 
planned  scheme  of  rebellion ;  and  he  swore  that  he  would 
probe  the  conspiracy  to  its  roots.  So,  when  the  preacher  was 
brought  before  the  Council,  he  had  recourse  to  a  horrible 
expedient.  He  examined  Mackail  under  the  torture  of  the 
Boot.  "  The  executioner,"  says  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "  enclosed  the 
leg  and  knee  within  the  tight  iron  case,  and  then,  placing  a 
wedge  of  the  same  metal  between  the  knee  and  the  edge  of  the 
machine,  took  a  mallet  in  his  hand,  and  stood  waiting  for 
further  orders.  A  surgeon  placed  himself  by  the  other  side  of 
the  prisoner's  chair,  bared  the  prisoner's  arm,  and  applied  his 
thumb  to  the  pulse  in  order  to  regulate  the  torture  according 
to  the  strength  of  the  patient.  When  these  preparations  were 
made,  the  President  glanced  his  eye  around  the  Council  as  if 
to  collect  their  suffrages,  and,  judging  from  their  mute  signs, 
gave  a  nod  to  the  executioner,  whose  mallet  instantly  descended 
on  the  wedge,  and,  forcing  it  between  the  knee  and  the  iron 
boot,  occasioned  the  most  exquisite  pain,  as  was  evident  from 
the  flush  on  the  brow  and  the  cheeks  of  the  sufferer."  Although 
it  happened  two  centuries  and  a  half  ago,  we  read  the  record 
with  almost  a  cry  of  indignation. 

It  was  not  once  only  that  the  awful  wedge  was  driven  down. 
Displeased  that  he  did  not  receive  the  information  he  wanted, 
Rothes  kept  demanding  "  one  touch  more."  Eleven  times  the 
mallet  descended,  until  the  poor  limb  was  shattered  and  shape- 
less. "  I  protest  solemnly  in  the  sight  of  God,"  the  martyr 
cried,  "  I  can  say  no  more,  though  all  the  joints  in  my  body 


EPHRAIM  MACBRIAR  OR  SIR  GALAHAD?       147 

were  in  as  great  anguish  as  my  leg."     Then  they  carried  him, 
bleeding  and  spent,  to  his  dungeon. 

Endeavour  after  endeavour  was  made  to  secure  his  release. 
Highborn  ladies  pleaded  for  him  with  tongue  and  pen.  His 
cousin,  Dr.  Matthew  Mackail,  sought  out  Archbishop  Sharp, 
first  in  Edinburgh  and  then  in  St.  Andrews,  to  entreat  his  pity 
for  a  life  so  young,  so  innocent,  so  full  of  promise.  But  the 
Archbishop  recollected  who  had  spoken  about  Judas  in  the 
church ;  and,  when  he  had  read  the  letters  which  the  doctor 
brought,  he  looked  up  and  answered  callously,  "  The  business 
is  now  in  the  hands  of  the  Justiciaries,  and  I  can  do  nothing." 
"  Can  ! "  Matthew  Mackail  might  have  retorted ;  "  nay,  not 
can,  my  lord,  but  will !     I  will  do  nothing." 

Technically  his  Grace  of  St.  Andrews  was  right.  After 
the  infliction  of  the  torture,  the  prisoner  had  been  ordered 
to  the  Court  of  Justiciary,  which  ratified  the  decisions  of  the 
Privy  Council ;  but  he  was  prostrated  by  his  sufferings,  and 
begged  for  delay.  "  I  am,"  he  wrote,  "  in  a  great  distemper 
and  fever,  and  am  wholly  unable  to  walk  or  stand."  This  was 
on  the  11th  of  December.  A  week  later,  on  the  18th,  "being 
indifferently  recovered,"  he  was  examined  by  Lord  Eenton,  the 
Justice  Clerk,  and  by  Sir  William  Murray.  He  admitted 
that  he  was  "  one  of  the  afflicted  party  or  persuasion  called 
Presbyterians  "  ;  that  he  had  been  with  the  insurgents  in  Ayr 
and  Ochiltree  and  Lanark ;  that,  when  he  was  captured,  he 
had  a  sword  in  his  hand.  It  helped  him  nothing  to  urge  that 
he  had  left  the  armed  men  before  the  actual  fighting  took 
place.  He  was  pronounced  a  rebel,  and  was  sentenced 
to  be  executed  at  the  Mercat  Cross  on  Saturday,  the  22nd. 
Through  the  lines  of  the  Guards  he  was  borne  back  to  the 
Tolbooth,  the  people  weeping  over  the  pathos  of  his  fate. 
But  his  own  face  shone.  "  Trust  in  God  ! "  he  said — "  Trust  in 
God  ! "  Then,  catching  a  glimpse  of  a  dear  friend,  "  How  good 
news  it  is,"  he  cried,  "  to  be  within  four  days'  journey  of 
enjoying  the  sight  of  Jesus  Christ ! " 

Yet  during  these  four  days  he  was  visited  by  two  different 
griefs.  One  arose  from  an  overscrupulous  conscience.  Had 
he  not  done  wrongly,  when  he  abandoned  the  wayworn  troops 


148  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

for  whom  disaster  vviis  waiting?  And  was  it  not  doubly 
criminal  that  he  should  press  his  pusillanimous  departure  as 
an  argument  why  he  ought  to  be  pardoned  by  his  judges  ? 
The  "ayenbite  of  inwyt,"  as  the  old  English  has  it,  was 
sharp  and  troublesome ;  but  the  self-accusations  were  wholly 
unmerited.  The  other  pain  was  child  of  the  affections  rather 
than  of  the  conscience.  His  father  came  to  see  him.  The 
two  loved  without  reserve.  "  Hugo,"  the  older  man  sobbed, 
"  I  called  thee  a  good  olive-tree  of  fair  fruits,  and  now  a  storm 
hath  destroyed  my  tree  and  its  fruits.  I  have  sinned;  but 
thou — what  hast  thou  done  ? "  But  the  son  could  not  hear 
the  father  charge  himself  with  fault  without  bewailing 
his  own  misdeeds.  "Through  coming  short  of  the  fifth 
commandment,"  he  confessed,  "  I  have  come  short  of  the 
promise  that  my  days  should  be  prolonged  in  the  land  of 
the  living.  And  God's  controversy  with  thee,"  he  added, 
"  is  for  overvaluing  thy  children,  especially  myself."  It  is 
an  instance  of  how  the  saints  deal  most  unsparingly  with  their 
white  and  royal  souls. 

These,  however,  were  passing  shadows.  Before  he  listened 
to  the  death-sentence,  Hugh  Mackail  had  amused  himself  in 
his  prison  by  composing  Latin  verses ;  his  were  the  recreations 
of  the  student.  Now  that  he  knew  the  worst  that  men  could 
do,  his  speech  rippled  with  humour.  Someone  asked  how  the 
outraged  leg  was  faring.  "  Oh  ! "  he  responded  merrily,  •  "  the 
fear  of  my  neck  makes  me  forget  my  leg."  "  I  am  not  so 
cumbered  about  dying,"  he  protested,  "  as  I  have  often  been 
about  preaching  a  sermon."  On  the  Friday  night  he  went  to 
bed  a  little  after  eleven,  and  his  cousin  the  physician  lay 
beside  him,  and  related  afterwards  how  well  he  slept.  At 
five  in  the  morning  he  rose,  and  awoke  his  comrade,  John 
Wodrow,  saying  with  a  smile,  "  Up,  John !  You  and  I  look 
not  like  men  going  this  day  to  be  hanged,  seeing  we  lie  so 
long."  Yet  there  were  serious  thoughts  too.  "  Now,  Lord," 
he  prayed,  "  we  come  to  Thy  Throne,  a  place  we  have  not 
hitherto  been  acquainted  with.  Earthly  kings'  thrones  have 
advocates  against  poor  men ;  but  Thy  Throne  hath  Jesus  Christ 
an  Advocate  for  us.     Our  supplication  this  day  is  not  to  be 


EPHRAIM  MACBRIAR  OR  SIR  GALAHAD?       149 

free  of  death,  nor  of  pain  in  death,  but  that  we  may  witness 
before  many  witnesses  a  good  confession." 

The  prayer  had  an  abundant  answer.  Scottish  martyr- 
ology  can  point  to  a  hundred  glorious  deaths,  but  to  none 
more  glorious  than  the  exodus  of  this  confessor  and  conqueror 
of  twenty-six  years.  When  he  reached  the  spot,  "he  ap- 
peared, to  the  conviction  of  all  that  formerly  knew  him, 
with  a  fairer,  better,  and  more  staid  countenance  than  ever 
they  had  before  observed."  The  sorrow  was  not  on  his  side ; 
it  was  on  that  of  his  friends :  "  scarce  was  there  a  dry  cheek 
in  the  whole  street  or  windows  at  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh." 
To  the  last  he  bore  his  testimony  with  a  kind  of  glad  defiance ; 
the  persecutors  might  arrest  the  life  of  the  body,  but  they 
could  not  modify  by  a  hair's-breadth  the  convictions  of  the  soul. 
"  Although  I  be  judged  as  a  rebel  among  men,"  he  said,  "  yet 
I  hope  to  be  accepted  as  loyal  before  God.  Nay  " — and  the 
trumpet  became  more  remonstrant  as  it  proceeded — "  nay, 
there  can  be  no  greater  act  of  loyalty  to  the  King,  as  the  times 
now  go,  than  for  every  man  to  do  his  utmost  for  the  extinction 
of  that  abominable  plant  of  Prelacy,  which  is  the  bane  of  the 
throne  and  of  the  country."  But  soon  the  note  was  gentler. 
"  I  praise  God  for  this  fatherly  chastisement,  whereby  He  hath 
made  me  in  part,  and  will  make  me  perfectly,  partaker  of  His 
holiness."  Then,  after  prayer,  he  raised  himself  to  his  full 
height ;  and^  lifting  the  napkin  from  his  face,  he  continued, 
"  I  hope  you  perceive  no  alteration  or  discouragement  in  my 
countenance  and  carriage ;  and,  as  it  may  be  to  your  wonder, 
so  I  profess  it  is  a  wonder  to  myself,  and  I  will  tell  you  the 
reason  of  it.  As  there  is  a  great  solemnity  here,  of  a  conflu- 
ence of  people,  a  scaffold,  a  gallows,  and  people  looking  out  at 
windows,  so  there  is  a  greater  and  more  solemn  preparation  in 
heaven  of  angels  to  carry  my  soul  to  Christ's  bosom.  Again, 
this  is  my  comfort,  that  it  is  to  come  into  Christ's  hands,  and 
He  will  present  it  blameless  and  faultless  to  the  Father,  and 
then  shall  I  be  ever  with  the  Lord."  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  has 
described  what  he  calls  "the  Renaissance  attitude  towards 
death."  In  the  best  men  of  that  time,  he  says,  dying  was 
boldly  picturesque ;  it  was  a  piece  of  public  tragedy,  performed 


I50  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

with  an  intention  half -chivalrous  and  half -hortatory.  So 
Philip  Sidney  died  at  Arnheim,  with  the  musicians  playing 
his  own  poems  at  his  bedside.  So  Bernard  Palissy  died  in 
the  Bastille,  dramatically  defending  his  beliefs  against  Henry 
the  Third.  So  John  Donne  died  in  his  deanery  of  St.  Paul's, 
with  the  portrait  of  himself  in  his  shroud  keeping  him  com- 
pany for  weeks.  So  holy  George  Herbert  died  at  Bemerton, 
singing  to  his  lute  such  hymns  and  anthems  as  he  hoped  to 
sing  in  heaven.  Splendid  captains  in  God's  army  these  were ; 
but  there  seems  something  too  elaborate  and  self-conscious  in 
their  home-going.  Hugh  Mackail  had  the  better  of  them.  His 
death  was  as  powerful  a  sermon  and  as  veritable  a  triumph ; 
but  there  was  nothing  in  it  deliberately  decorative — ^its  victory 
was  spontaneous,  natural,  irrepressible,  complete. 

His  final  words  are  famous.  They  were  the  Farewell  and 
the  Welcome  which,  in  varying  versions,  the  later  martyrs 
frequently  repeated.  "  Now  I  leave  off  to  speak  any  more  to 
creatures,  and  turn  my  speech  to  Thee,  0  Lord.  Now  I  begin 
my  intercourse  with  God,  which  shall  never  be  broken  off. 
Farewell,  father  and  mother,  friends  and  relations !  Farewell, 
the  world  and  all  delights !  Farewell,  meat  and  drink  !  Fare- 
well, sun,  moon,  and  stars !  Welcome,  God  and  Father ! 
Welcome,  sweet  Lord  Jesus,  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant ! 
Welcome,  blessed  Spirit  of  grace,  God  of  all  consolation ! 
Welcome,  glory  !     Welcome,  eternal  life  !     Welcome,  death  !  " 

Is  this  the  Ephraim  Macbriar  of  that  hateful  conclave  in 
Drumshinnel  ?     Ah  no,  he  merits  quite  another  name — 

He  looked  as  young  ami  pure  and  glad, 
As  ever  looked  Sir  Galahad. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

BLOT  OUT  HIS  NAME  THEN. 

COMMISSIONER  ROTHES  and  Sir  Thomas  Dalzell,  with 
James  Sharp  to  instigate  and  encourage,  had  estab- 
lished their  reign  of  violence  and  avarice.  They  followed 
Rullion  Green  with  wickednesses  which  proved  how  strong 
their  wish  was  to  exterminate  "  the  wandering  and  weather- 
beaten  flock  of  Christ."  Not  only  were  the  fines  doubled 
and  trebled,  and  not  only  were  there  in  Edinburgh  and 
Glasgow  and  Ayr  the  public  executions  of  the  ringleaders, 
but,  up  and  down  the  country,  when  the  survivors  of  the 
ill-starred  rising  were  caught  by  the  troopers,  they  were 
shot  at  their  own  doors.  There  was  many  a  pathetic  inci- 
dent in  connection  with  "  the  evils,  extortions,  cruelties,  and 
exactions"  of  the  time.  Thus  we  read,  in  Naphtali,  of  a 
country  boy  of  sixteen,  who  was  bidden  renounce  the  Covenant 
which  he  had  taken  at  Lanark.  He  had  no  skill  in  spiritual 
matters,  no  wisdom  such  as  the  more  advanced  scholars  of 
Christ  have  reached,  and  no  full  assurance  of  his  personal 
salvation.  He  fell  into  great  anxiety,  for  he  was  not  pre- 
pared to  die,  and  yet  he  could  not  redeem  his  life  with  the 
price  which  the  persecutors  proposed.  But,  before  the  end, 
all  the  windows  of  his  heart  were  opened  to  the  day.  After 
the  prayers  and  conference  of  some  who  saw  him  in  his 
prison  at  Irvine,  he  went  to  his  doom  "  leaping  and  praising 
God."  Through  all  the  west,  and  over  most  of  the  Lowlands 
during  the  winter  of  1666  and  1667,  the  Covenanters  could 
never  tell  from  what  lurking-place  swift  death  might  spring 
out  on  them. 

But  the  tormentors  went   too  far.      The  man  who  broke 


152  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  power  of  Middleton  three  years  before,  and  to  whom 
Eothes  protested  an  unchangeable  affection,  was  watching 
them.  Lauderdale  saw  that,  if  he  would  keep  his  credit,  the 
blundering  policy  of  a  merciless  severity  must  be  modified 
in  Scotland.  He  detected,  too,  a  movement  against  his  own 
supremacy — a  movement  in  which  the  Commissioner,  despite 
his  fervent  assurances,  and  the  Archbishop,  who  avowed  his 
loyalty  in  obsequious  terms,  and  DaLzell,  and  the  Duke 
of  Hamilton,  all  had  their  share.  The  prelates — for  Alexander 
Burnet  of  Glasgow  had  his  finger  in  the  matter  as  well  as 
his  Grace  of  St.  Andrews — and  the  military  party  both  alike 
wanted  to  humble  the  lordly  statesman,  who  meant  to  be 
the  Grand  Vizier  of  an  autocratic  King.  Evidently  it  was 
time  for  Lauderdale  to  bestir  himself. 

He  did  it  with  much  effect.  First  he  brought  James 
Sharp  in  cringing  humility  to  his  feet.  Aided  by  Sir  Eobert 
Moray  and  the  Earl  of  Tweeddale,  men  of  honour  in  whom 
he  could  absolutely  trust,  and  men  of  compassion  who  hated 
the  unmitigated  brutalities  which  had  been  in  vogue,  he 
frightened  the  domineering  Churchman  into  abject  submission. 
So  completely  did  Sharp  desert  his  ally  Dalzell,  that,  one 
day,  the  "  Muscovian  beast "  turned  on  him  with  a  growl : 
"  Whensoever  the  Bishops  are  stoned,  you  deserve  to  be 
the  first."  There  were  no  limits  either  to  the  Primate's 
recantations  or  to  his  misgivings ;  he  was  sure  that  the  end 
of  his  pomps  and  plots  had  come.  At  length,  when  the 
humiliation  had  been  carried  sufficiently  far,  and  the  knave 
had  "gotten  the  second  sight  through  experience  and  not 
for  nought,"  Lauderdale  ordered  him  to  rise  from  his  knees. 
Even  yet  he  was  scared.  Sir  Robert  Moray  pleads  laughingly 
that  his  master  will  induce  the  King  to  "  write  two  lines  to 
him  with  his  own  hand  "  ;  for  nothing  less  will  "  raise  his  heart, 
which  is  bemisted  and  lodged  in  his  hose."  So  Charles,  at 
Lauderdale's  prompting,  writes  the  two  lines;  and  then  the 
winter  of  the  Archbishop's  discontent  becomes  glorious 
summer.  "  His  Majesty's  hand,"  he  says,  "  with  the  diamond 
seal,  was  to  me  as  a  resurrection  from  the  dead."  The  whole 
transaction  flashes  a  searchlight  into  the  dispositions  of  the 


CHARLES  I. 
From  the  Painting  by  Van  Dyck. 


BLOT  OUT  HIS  NAME  THEN  153 

men  who  were  principals  in  it :  Lauderdale,  with  quiet  master- 
fulness, with  perfect  temper,  with  ready  unscrupulousness ;  and 
Sharp,  who  can  be  bullied  and  cajoled  with  ease,  and  who  is 
certain  to  be  found  on  that  side  which  promises  success  to 
himself.  Among  the  Church's  oppressors,  none  is  more  to  be 
dreaded  than  the  first,  and  none  more  to  be  despised  than 
the  second. 

Eothes,  with  his  coarse  and  glaring  sins,  had  not  the 
Primate's  craven  spirit.  Yet  Lauderdale  had  decided  that  he, 
too,  must  be  rendered  harmless.  He  persuaded  the  King  to 
transfer  the  Earl  from  the  position  of  Eoyal  Commissioner  to 
that  of  Lord  Chancellor,  vacant  since  the  death  of  Glencairn 
three  years  previously.  In  his  new  office  he  would  have  a 
dignity  quite  as  stately  as  in  the  old ;  but  his  opportunities 
of  working  mischief  would  be  at  an  end.  Eothes  himself  was 
frankly  averse  to  the  change.  When  Sir  Eobert  Moray  went 
to  tell  him  about  it,  he  had  to  talk  for  hours — "  it  was  8  a 
clock  ere  wee  parted";  and,  even  then,  the  negotiation  had 
made  meagre  progress.  He  had  no  abihty,  the  Earl  declared, 
for  such  work  as  the  Chancellor's ;  he  was  not  a  lawyer ;  he 
knew  little  Latin  ;  he  was  ignorant  of  statutes  and  precedents ; 
how  could  he  state  a  question  as  it  should  be  stated?  He 
"  opposed  his  youth,  his  humour,  his  way."  And  always,  like 
the  needle  quivering  back  to  the  pole,  he  returned  to  his 
unwillingness,  "  which  hee  expressed  to  be  high  and  in- 
superable." Moray  had  need  that  day  of  the  cleverness  and 
the  patience  with  which  he  was  dowered :  "  to  every  point 
hee  said  I  found  replyes,  that  still  enervate  them  to  my 
thinking."  What  purpose,  he  asked  in  the  end,  could  there 
be  in  prolonging  the  resistance  ?  The  King's  resolution  was 
fixed,  and  it  were  much  handsomer  that  Eothes  should  yield 
at  the  first  than  at  the  last.  Of  course,  there  was  but  one 
termination  to  the  debate,  though  it  was  resumed  again  and 
again.  Eothes  had  to  surrender.  On  the  24th  of  September 
1667,  he  wrote  himself  to  Lauderdale,  laying  down  his 
Commissionership,  and  requesting  the  all-powerful  Secretary 
to  express  to  the  King  his  "  pasionat  desayr  to  cis  his  hands." 

And  who  was  to  be  tlic  new  Commissioner?     Who,  but 


154  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Lauderdale  in  his  own  person  ?  He  would  take  the  reins 
himself,  and  would  vanquish  the  mettlesome  and  recalcitrant 
steed.  Or  let  us  adopt  Lord  Tweeddale's  metaphor.  "  The 
news  pleas  me  well,"  he  said,  "  that  the  keyes  shall  hang  at 
the  right  belt."  For  nearly  a  decade  and  a  half  Lauderdale 
governed  Scotland  with  a  proconsul's  absolutism ;  from 
Galloway  to  the  Grampians  his  wish  was  law.  We  must 
look,  a  little  more  carefully,  at  the  man  who  wielded  a  sceptre 
so  potent. 

John  Maitland,  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale,  was  a  "  lost  leader." 
He  deserted  the  allies  of  his  early  years.  In  the  old  days, 
none  had  seemed  more  zealous  than  he.  When  the  Kirk  had 
its  highest  honours  to  confer,  he  was  one  of  its  chosen.  Back 
in  the  December  of  1643,  when  he  was  in  his  gracious  youth, 
Robert  Baillie  wrote  with  emphasis  of  "  the  very  great 
sufficiency  and  happiness  of  good  Maitland"  as  a  Commis- 
sioner to  the  Westminster  Assembly.  It  is  true  that  he  never 
had  been  a  Protester,  like  his  fellow-delegates,  Paitherfurd  and 
Wariston.  He  brought  away  the  Engagement  from  the  Isle  of 
Wight ;  but  only  mournful  necessity,  he  explained,  led  him  to 
meddle  with  such  compromises ;  he  told  his  Covenanting 
associates  "  how  sore  against  his  heart  he  went  the  road  now 
he  was  in."  By  and  by,  when  the  moderate  men  were  broken 
at  Preston,  he  expressed  before  the  courts  of  the  Church  his 
penitence  for  having  lowered  that  flag  which  he  should  have 
been  proud  to  carry  aloft.  The  leaders  of  Presbytery  took 
him  unquestioningly  into  their  confidence  again,  and  he 
remained  their  "loving  friend."  He  was  so,  when,  after 
Worcester,  the  English  Government  threw  him  into  confine- 
ment, first  in  the  Tower,  and  then  in  other  southern  gaols  ; 
and,  during  the  years  of  his  incarceration,  there  was  never 
a  suspicion  of  his  lealheartedness.  From  prison  he  sent  to 
Scotland  letters  which  spoke  the  dialect  of  Zion,  letters  full 
of  tranquil  courage  and  acquiescence  in  the  will  of  God.  His 
correspondents  rejoiced  in  a  helper  so  convinced  and  ardent. 
Was  it  a  long  drawn-out  imposture  ?  Dr.  Osmund  Airy,  who 
is  at  home  in  the  Second  Charles's  reign  as  a  man  is  at  home 
in  the  house  where  he  has  lived  for  years,  says  Yes.     Lauder- 


BLOT  OUT  HIS  NAME  THEN  155 

dale,  he  believes,  assumed  this  zeal,  like  a  player  putting  on 
his  stage  accoutrements ;  he  hoodwinked  the  Kirk  he  dis- 
liked, until  the  opportunity  came  for  escaping  from  the  meshes 
of  its  net;  he  was  a  conscious  hypocrite.  One  wonders 
whether  that  is  the  only  solution  of  this  problem  in  per- 
sonality with  its  "  abysmal  deeps."  Perhaps  there  is  another 
answer.  John  Maitland  may  have  deceived  himself  as  well 
as  his  brethren  in  the  camp  of  the  Covenant.  Shrewd  and 
sagacious  men  have  sometimes  misread  their  own  souls,  and  he 
may  have  been  of  their  fellowship.  He  may  have  dreamed 
that  his  Presbyterian  comrades  were  right,  when  they  assured 
him,  in  the  plenitude  of  their  faith  and  hope  and  love,  that  he 
would  "  go  to  the  saints." 

But,  however  we  interpret  the  early  section  of  his 
biography,  the  Eestoration  awakened  Lauderdale,  and  led  him 
out  from  the  world  of  illusions  to  the  world  which  was  his 
own.  The  true  man  had  full  play  now.  There  was  nobody 
who  enjoyed  such  intimacy  with  Charles,  and  nobody  who 
kept  the  friendship  unshaken  through  so  long  a  period. 
Clarendon,  to  whom  the  King's  debt  was  deepest,  was  disgraced  ; 
but  Lauderdale,  of  whom  Clarendon  felt  an  invincible  distrust, 
remained  to  glory  over  his  rival's  abasement.  An  uncouth- 
looking  favourite  he  was.  "  He  made  a  very  ill  appearance," 
Bishop  Burnet  says ;  "  he  was  very  big ;  his  hair  red,  hanging 
oddly  about  him ;  his  tongue  was  too  big  for  his  mouth,  which 
made  him  bedew  all  that  he  talked  to ;  and  his  whole  manner 
was  rough  and  boisterous."  His  portrait,  although  Lely's 
consummate  art  has  done  for  it  everything  which  could  be 
done,  attests  the  accuracy  of  the  gossiping  Bishop's  delineation. 
The  forehead  is  low  ;  the  cheeks  are  loose ;  the  lips  are  thick 
and  insatiable ;  the  body  is  huge  and  brutish.  The  sovereign, 
well  aware  of  his  own  ugliness,  felt  some  satisfaction,  it  may 
be  surmised,  in  the  reflection  that  his  confidant  and  boon- 
companion  was  uglier  than  himself.  But,  concealed  behind  the 
unlovely  features,  there  was  an  alert  brain.  We  are  told  that, 
in  all  companies,  Lauderdale  had  much  to  say ;  he  was  full  of 
ideas  and  expedients.  Buckingham's  epigram, "  He  is  a  man  of 
a  blundering  understanding,"  may  have  had  its  side  of  truth ; 


156  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

but  his  was  an  intellect  capacious  and  fertile  and  resourceful. 
He  matured  his  plans  with  calm  coolness,  and  he  never  lacked 
the  courage  required  to  carry  them  into  effect.  He  was 
utterly  cynical  in  his  judgments  of  men  and  things,  as  hope- 
lessly cynical  as  his  royal  patron.  Year  in  and  year  out  his 
selfishness  kept  watch,  and  no  fair  words  or  plausible  profes- 
sions lulled  it  into  slumber.  In  his  treatment  of  Middleton, 
and  in  his  victory  over  Sharp  and  Eothes,  we  have  seen  how 
he  could  choose  the  psychological  moment  for  winning  a 
personal  triumph.  He  showed  keen  penetration,  also,  in  the 
agents  whom  he  gathered  about  him;  he  knew,  an  intimate 
said,  "how  to  make  use  of  a  knave."  But  yet  there  was  a 
magnetism,  which  men  higher  in  the  moral  scale  than  himself 
were  forced  to  own ;  he  was  helped  by  public  servants  who 
were  "  very  perfit  gentil  knights."  Bad  or  good,  they  found 
him  a  despotic  master.  He  employed  them  just  so  long  as 
they  furthered  his  interests ;  but,  if  they  should  contradict,  he 
bade  them  good-bye  without  a  regret  and  with  no  thanks. 
His  King  and  himself — these  were  Lauderdale's  deities,  the 
Great  Twin  Brethren ;  and  they  occupied  thrones  of  equal 
dignity.  He  would  take  a  cartload  of  oaths,  he  declared,  as 
irreconcilable  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive,  rather  than  forget 
His  Majesty  or  forfeit  his  own  power. 

The  man  is  a  medley,  a  bundle  of  opposing  qualities.  There 
were  few  scholars  in  Britain  more  versatile ;  there  was  none 
in  the  precincts  of  the  Court.  To  his  "  deare  Eobin " — that 
Eobert  Moray  who,  if  he  had  allowed  it,  would  have  been  his 
good  angel — he  writes  from  Holyrood  in  July  1663,  and  this 
is  a  sentence  in  the  letter :  "  Send  with  him,"  with  Lord 
Dunfermline,  "  my  little  octavo  hebrew  bible  without  points, 
which  lyes  in  my  little  closet  at  Whitehall."  Other  things 
are  to  be  despatched,  too,  which  have  a  different  aroma^"  the 
glasses  of  spirit  of  roses  which  yow  will  finde  in  the  middle 
drawer  of  my  walnut-tree  cabinet " ;  but  here  is  a  student  who 
shares  John  Milton's  partiality  for  the  Old  Testament  in  the 
original  tongue.  He  was  as  conversant  with  the  Greek  and 
Latin  classics,  and  with  ancient  and  modern  history.  He  had 
a  Scotsman's  delight  in  theological  discussion  and  speculation. 


BLOT  OUT  HIS  NAME  THEN  157 

His  weary  imprisonment  assisted  him  to  accumvilate  these 
stores  of  erudition ;  but  not  one  captive  in  a  hundred  would 
have  compelled  the  years  of  durance  to  yield  so  rich  a  harvest. 
And  yet,  side  by  side  with  the  culture,  what  spiritual  de- 
generacy there  was !  Lauderdale  was  as  rank  a  sensualist 
as  could  be  found  in  Charles's  palace  of  misrule.  His  vices 
were  notorious.  It  was  difficult  for  him  to  speak  without  an 
oath  or  a  lie.  A  frequent  exercise  of  his  humour  was  to  make 
puns  on  the  verses  of  Scripture,  or  to  mimic  the  accents 
and  gestures  of  the  Covenanting  preachers  to  whom  he  had 
listened  in  his  more  honourable  youth.  There  was,  moreover, 
an  element  of  superstition,  which  all  the  intellectual  attain- 
ment could  not  banish.  He  never  liked  James  Sharp.  He 
said  to  Lord  Melville  once,  Wodrow  relates,  that  he  knew  the 
Archbishop  would  come  to  a  violent  end.  Asked  why,  he 
answered  that  he  had  detected  infallible  tokens  of  catastrophe 
in  little  tricks  of  gait  and  demeanour  which  he  observed  about 
the  obnoxious  priest — "  happing,  when  he  walked,  like  a  pyet ; 
and  winking  with  one  eye;  and  keeping  the  thumb  in  his 
fingers  when  he  spoke."  "My  lord,"  added  the  King's 
Secretary  of  State,  "  I  never  saw  one  that  had  these  signs  who 
died  an  ordinary  death."  Is  he  not  a  marvellous  conglomerate 
— scholarly,  capable  above  nine-tenths  of  his  contemporaries, 
familiar  with  the  truth,  and  yet  the  slave  of  passion  and 
profaneness  and  credulity  ?  There  is  a  word  of  the  divine 
Teacher  which  is  peculiarly  applicable  to  John,  Earl  of 
Lauderdale.  It  is  that  word  which  smites  like  a  sword  and 
saddens  like  the  Arctic  winter.  If  the  light  that  is  in  thee  he 
darkness,  hoiu  great  is  that  darkness  ! 

The  friends  of  the  older  time  were  aghast  at  the  change. 
A  few  months  before  his  own  death,  Robert  Baillie,  once  so 
assured  of  Lauderdale's  devotion,  sent  him  a  letter  of  brave 
and  touching  reproof.  "  My  Lord,  you  ar  the  nobleman  in  the 
world  I  love  best  and  esteem  most.  I  think  I  may  say  and 
writ  to  you  what  I  lyk.  If  you  have  gone  with  your  hert  to 
forsak  your  Covenant,  to  countenance  the  Eeintroduction  of 
bishops  and  books,  and  strenthening  the  King  by  your  advyse 
in  thes  things,  I  think  you  a  prime  transgressor  and  liable 


158  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

among  the  first  to  answer  to  God  for  that  grit  sin,  and  opening 
a  door  which  in  hast  will  no  be  closit,  for  persecution  of  a 
multitud  of  the  best  persons  and  most  loyal  subjects  that  ar 
in  the  thrie  dominions."     It  may  be  doubted,  indeed,  whether 
the  quondam  member  of  the  Westminster  Assembly  approved 
of  the  bringing  l)ack  of  Episcopacy.     People  said  that  to  the 
close  of  his  life  he  was  a  Presbyterian  at  heart ;  and  probably 
Burnet  is  right  when  he  tells  us  that  privately  the  Secretary 
urged  Charles  against  the  treachery.     But  in  public  he  inter- 
posed  no   obstacle.     If   he   "would  never    have    advised,  he 
forbore  to  curb " ;  and  that,  in  a  man  with  his  antecedents 
and  his  influence,  was  a  crime.     And,  besides  Baillie,  there 
was  another  friend  whom  his  evil  behaviour  cut  to  the  quick. 
Eichard  Baxter  had  hoped  great  things  of  him.    His  were  among 
the  books  which  the  captive  studied  in  his  various  dungeons, 
"  reading  them  all,  and  taking  notes  of  them,  and  earnestly  com- 
mending them  to  his  kinsman,  the  Earl  of  Balcarres."    In  fact, 
when  his  hour  of  glory  came,  Lauderdale,  as  we  learn  from  the 
Reliquice  Baxteriance,  had  desired  to  carry  the  author  of  The 
Saint's  Best  north  to  Scotland,  and  to  give  him  a  bishopric  there ; 
and  the  great  Puritan  had  difficulty  in  evading  his  importuni- 
ties.   But  now  the  preacher  was  filled  with  pity  and  indignation 
and  fear.    A  noble  letter  survives,  written  about  1670,  in  which 
he  begs  the  recreant  to  turn  and  live.     "  God  forbid  that  you 
should  lose  in  prosperity  that  which  you  gained  in  adversity  ! 
and  that  He  who  was  near  you  in  a  prison  should  be  put  far 
from  you  in  a  Court !     If  our  hearts  once  say  to  Him,  Depart 
from  us,  it's  a  sad  prognostick  that  we  may  hear  from  Him  at 
last,  Depart  from  Me."  ..."  My  Lord,  I  am  not  persuading 
you  for  the  securing  of  your  soul  to  leave  the  Court,  that  you 
may  escape  temptations.     I  know,  if  all  good  men  should  do  so 
on  that  pretence,  they  would  but  desert  their  trust  and  the 
commonwealth  and  the  interest  of  Christ ;  as  cowardly  soldiers 
that  will  quit  the  field  for  fear  of  being  wounded,  or  slothful 
workmen  that  will  quit  the  vineyard  for  fear  of  doing  their 
work  amiss.     This  were  to  give  up  all  as  deplorate.     But,  I 
beseech  you.  Watch,  and  Walk  with  God ! "  .  .  .  "It  were 
a  miserable  life  that  should  imprison   your   soul  in   smoky 


BLOT  OUT  HIS  NAME  THEN  159 

vanity,  and  shut  you  out  from  your  communion  with  God. 
This  were  to  be  debased  below  those  poorest  Christians,  that 
in  a  cottage  and  in  rags  have  daily  access  to  Him  in  prayer 
and  holy  meditation.  It  were  a  miserable  honour  that  should 
depress  you,  and  a  miserable  gain  that  should  bring  upon  you 
so  great  a  loss."  These  are  among  the  yearning  sentences  in 
an  appeal,  a  concio  ad  cor,  remarkable  for  its  fidelity  and  its 
love.  Lauderdale  could  not  allege  that  he  had  received  no 
warning  of  his  declension  and  danger.  The  best  men  whom 
he  knew  followed  him,  as  he  went  deeper  and  deeper  down, 
with  regretful  eyes  and  with  prayers  that  he  would  bethink 
himself  before  it  was  too  late. 

But  he  never  did.  He  was  determined  to  be  indispensable 
to  Charles.  He  was  as  drunken  and  vicious  as  Eochester 
His  wit,  if  it  was  heavier,  was  more  mordant.  He  could  talk 
in  Latin,  in  Italian,  in  French,  even  in  Hebrew.  All  these 
were  endowments  which  commended  him  to  the  King.  In 
London,  from  1660  to  1667,  he  courted  his  master  with  such 
assiduity  that  no  presence  was  so  essential  as  his ;  and  by 
1667  he  was  the  real  ruler  of  Scotland.  Thus  John  Maitland, 
once  the  hope  of  the  Presbyterians,  mounted  higher  and 
higher  in  magnificence,  and  sank  lower  and  lower  in  manhood 
and  grace. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE  BLINK. 

LORD  LAUDERDALE  had  taken  the  control  of  Scottish 
affairs,  because  Rothes  and  his  colleagues  were  spoiling 
everything  by  their  vulgar  violence.  Odd  as  it  seems  to  find 
any  relaxation  of  their  sorrows  coming  from  such  a  source,  it 
was  to  be  expected,  therefore,  that  the  Covenanters  would 
liave  something  of  a  breathing-space.  And  so  it  happened. 
The  three  or  four  years  which  followed  are  known  in  the 
literature  of  the  persecuted  by  the  quaint  title  of  The  Blink. 
Through  the  brooding  clouds  a  few  rays  of  sunshine  forced 
their  way,  and  the  hearts  of  the  down-trodden  folk  were 
warmed.  In  greater  numbers  than  ever  they  met  for  worship 
on  the  hillsides  and  in  the  fields,  crowding  to  hear  the  preachers 
who  gave  them  the  living  bread  and  the  water  which  has 
"  refreshment  for  all  thirst."  The  mercy,  we  shall  see,  was 
mingled  with  new  misery;  and  fresh  causes  of  contention 
sprang  up  among  the  faithful.  But,  for  the  time,  there  was 
an  easing  of  their  burden. 

One  improvement  was  the  removal  from  military  command 
of  two  officers  who  had  gained  an  undesirable  repute.  Of  the 
two  Sir  William  Ballantyne  was  the  more  savage ;  he  "  hath 
all  this  time,"  wrote  Moray  to  Lauderdale,  "been  exacting 
monney  and  bonds,  driving  cattle,  and  harassing  the  innocent 
as  well  as  the  guilty."  His  reign  of  extortion  was  terminated. 
He  was  fined  and  ordered  to  withdraw  from  the  country. 
From  Paris  he  sent  an  angry  little  letter  to  the  King's 
Commissioner.  "  I  intend  to  som  place  where  I  may  have 
the  occasion  to  ffoUow  arms  till  yowr  Lordship's  displeasor 
be  removed ;  hoping  such  is  yowr  justice  yow  will  not  desire 

i6o 


THE  BLINK  i6i 

without  cawse  utterlie  to  rowine  a  poore  gentleman."  But 
death  met  him  before  he  saw  Scotland  again.  He  was  at  the 
siege  of  a  beleaguered  town  in  the  Netherlands;  and,  as  he 
walked  one  day  too  near  the  hostile  guns,  a  comrade  called 
out  to  warn  him  of  his  risk.  "  Cannon-balls  kill  none  but  fey 
folk,"  was  his  contemptuous  answer.  The  word  had  just 
crossed  his  lips,  when  a  ball  shot  him  throiigh  the  heart ;  and 
his  bravadoes  were  ended  for  ever.  The  other  officer,  whose 
tyrannies  had  a  summary  conclusion,  was  Sir  James  Turner, 
the  author  of  the  Pentland  Eising  and  its  attendant  wretched- 
ness. In  spite  of  his  eloquent  protestations  that  a  punishment 
he  did  not  deserve  was  inflicted  on  him,  he  lost  his  place  in 
the  army ;  and,  if  he  escaped  exile,  he  had  to  live  in  privacy 
for  the  rest  of  his  days. 

But  the  chief  feature  of  these  years  of  the  Blink,  when 
milder  men  and  milder  measures  were  uppermost,  was  the- 
granting  of  the  two  Indulgences — the  earlier  in  June  1669,  the 
later  in  1672.  The  Indulgences  had  a  kindly  look;  but  they 
added  immeasurably  to  the  troubles  of  the  Church.  What  was 
it  that  they  did  ? 

The  parish  churches,  abandoned  to  the  lifeless  curates, 
were  almost  empty.  The  people  discovered  methods  of 
listening  to  their  own  ministers,  the  friends  whose  adoption 
they  had  tried.  But,  if  this  state  of  things  continued,  one  of 
three  consequences  must  ensue :  either  the  worship  of  God  in 
the  ecclesiastical  buildings  of  the  land  would  become  obsolete ; 
or  a  system  of  persecution  must  be  inaugurated,  more  unspar- 
ing in  its  sternness  and  more  prohfic  in  its  results;  or  else 
some  degree  of  toleration  must  be  extended  to  the  Presbyterian 
preachers,  and  a  way  of  return  must  be  devised  for  them  to 
the  offices  they  had  filled  before  Middleton's  black  Act  of 
Glasgow  drove  them  to  proclaim  their  message  under  the  open 
sky.  The  last  was  the  course  preferred  by  the  governors  of 
the  country ;  and  thus  the  Indulgences  came  into  being. 

They  were  a  permission  to  the  outed  ministers  to  reoccupy 

their  charges.     Those  who  declined  to  go  for  sanction  to  the 

Bishops  were  not  to  have  the  stipend,  but  only  the  manse,  and 

were  to  receive  an  annuity  from  the  nation.     The  ministry  of 

II 


i62  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

those  who  refused  to  attend  the  Episcopal  Synods  was  to  be 
restricted  to  the  parishes  over  which  they  were  set.  None 
was  to  admit  to  the  sacrament  of  Baptism  or  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  anyone  from  a  congregation  outside  his  own  parochial 
boundary.  The  Indulgences  were  thus  the  King's  authorisa- 
tion to  Covenanting  ministers  to  take  up  afresh,  under  certain 
stringent  conditions,  their  dearly  loved  work  of  preaching  the 
Gospel  of  Christ.  Again,  if  they  chose,  their  voices  might 
be  heard  within  the  walls  of  those  houses  of  prayer  that 
were  hallowed  by  innumerable  sacred  recollections.  But  the 
Government  would  watch,  would  superintend,  would  control 
their  language  and  their  action.  This  State  regulation  was 
the  fatal  blot  on  the  scheme,  in  the  judgment  of  the  majority 
of  the  men  for  whom  it  was  designed.  They  had  cause,  they 
felt,  to  fear  the  Greeks,  et  dona  ferentes.  To  their  authors  the 
Indulgences  appeared  politically  wise,  and  they  were  granted 
with  some  graciousness  ;  but  a  freedom  so  cabined  and  guarded,  a 
virtue  so  cloistered,  was  not  what  the  Covenanters  had  suffered 
in  order  to  secure.  If  they  accepted  it,  they  would  allow  to 
civic  dignitaries  the  right  of  interference  in  the  thrice-holy 
region  of  the  Church :  they  would  yield  up  to  an  external 
power  the  prerogatives  which  pertain  to  Jesus  Christ  alone. 

Nor  was  this  likely  to  be  the  only  melancholy  result. 
Other  harvests  of  mischief  lay  in  the  perilous  seed.  For 
example,  who  could  prophesy  to  what  lengths  the  intrusion 
of  the  State  might  go  ?  Having  once  invaded  the  spiritual 
realm,  she  would  return  with  a  demand  for  new  benefactions, 
and  would  assert  her  domination  in  yet  more  offensive  ways. 
Moreover,  the  Indulgences  could  not  be  welcomed  without 
dividing  the  adherents  of  the  Covenant.  It  was  useless  to 
expect  that  everyone  would  see  in  their  niggardly  promises  a 
boon  so  rich  that  at  any  cost  it  must  be  coveted  and  grasped. 
There  would  be  many  soldiers  of  Christ  too  jealous  of  their 
Master's  honour  to  reap  comforts  for  themselves  at  His  expense. 
And  thus  those  who  took  the  liberty  proffered  them  would 
put  a  sundering  chasm  between  themselves  and  their  brethren. 
It  was  a  contingency  to  be  contemplated  with  dismay.  There 
was  yet  another  evil  which  could  be  foreseen.     Compliance 


THE  BLINK  163 

with  the  King's  proposals  would  only  prove  an  incitement 
to  Charles  and  his  advisers  to  afflict  the  conventicles  more 
mercilessly  than  before.  What  justification  was  there  for 
conventicles  at  all,  the  statesmen  would  ask,  when  the  doors 
of  the  churches  had  been  thrown  open,  and  Presbyterians 
were  in  the  pulpits  again  ?  Look  at  it  in  what  light  they 
would,  most  of  the  Covenanters  saw  something  ensnaring  in 
the  bribe  held  out  to  them ;  and  they  declined  to  profit  by  it. 

Singularly  enough,  Lauderdale  found  his  first  Indulgence 
vigorously  condemned  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical world.     Alexander  Burnet,  the  Archbishop  of  Glasgow, 
was  a  resolute    High    Churchman,  much  more  zealous  than 
James   Sharp    for   the  independence   of  the  spiritual  realm. 
That  the  Privy  Council  should  arrogate  to  itself  the  power  of 
admitting  the  ejected  ministers  to  their  old  places  was  in  his . 
eyes  a  wound  inflicted  on  the  Church ;  for  it  was  she  who  ought 
to  be  intrusted  with  such  duties,  and  no  Court  of  the  nation 
could  lawfully  trespass  on  her  domain.     It  was  the  favourite 
argument  of   the  Protesters,  the  clear-sighted  Commissioner 
averred,  enunciated  by  a  man  to  whom  the  Protesters  were  as 
the  abomination  of  desolation.     But  Burnet — Longifacies  is  the 
nickname  by  which  he  is  known  in  the  coterie  of  Lauderdale's 
bosom-friends — won  nothing  but  a  mitigated  martyrdom  from 
his  attachment  to  principle.     At  the  Christmas  of  1669  he 
was  compelled  to  retire  from  his  see.     "  I,  Alexander,  Arch- 
bishop of  Glasgow,"  he  wrote,  "  being  sensible  that  my  service 
in  that  province  hath  not  beene  so  acceptable  to  His  Majestic 
as  I  could  have  wished,  and  that  I  cannot  expect  my  con- 
tinuance  therein   can   be   so   usefull   to  the    Church   as   the 
necessities  thereof  at  this  tyme  require ;  and  intimation  of  His 
Majestie's  displeasure  being  made  to  me  by  My  Lord  Commis- 
sioner, his  grace  the  Earl  of  Lauderdaill ;  I  doe  in  all  humility 
make  a  surrender  thereof."     Whether  it  were  prelate  or  peer 
or  presbyter  who  stood  in  the  dictator's  path,  he  was  overtaken 
soon  by  chastisement ;  and  the  autocrat  went  on  his  regal  way 
undisturbed. 

There   were    forty-two    of    the    banished    ministers   who 
availed  themselves  of  the  gate  provided  by  the  Indulgence 


i64  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

back  into  the  churches  from  which  they  had  been  expelled. 
If,  to  borrow  a  phrase  from  Samuel  Eutherfurd,  they  preferred 
the  lower  road  of  the  valleys  to  the  higher  road  of  the 
mountains,  it  would  be  easy  to  speak  too  harshly  of  men  wha 
were  swayed  towards  compromise  and  concession  by  many 
appealing  arguments.  But  the  issues  of  pain  and  strife  which 
their  braver-spirited  friends  predicted  revealed  themselves 
only  too  quickly.  Their  conduct  was  condemned  by  the  bulk 
of  Presbyterian  people,  as  an  acceptance  of  conditions  ruinous 
to  the  privileges  of  the  Church  and  to  the  headship  of  Christ. 
Kirkton  sums  up  the  more  consistent  view  in  a  single  pregnant 
sentence;  the  Indulgence,  he  says,  being  derived  from  the 
King's  authority,  "  was  judged  a  bitter  fruit  from  a  bitter  tree." 
Henceforward  there  was  a  new  breach  in  the  Covenanting 
host.  It  was  sore  enough  to  have  Resolutioner  and  Protester 
regarding  one  another  with  suspicion,  and  winging  their  con- 
troversial arrows  at  each  other  instead  of  at  the  common 
foe.  But  now  a  second  cause  of  heart-burning  had  arisen. 
Indulged  and  Non-indulged  manifested  a  too  scanty  affection^ 
and  were  frequently  engaged  in  verbal  strife,  during  the  years 
to  come. 

A  fatality  clung,  one  sees,  to  Lauderdale's  gifts,  and  the 
boon  became  a  bane.  But  probably  the  intention  was 
generous.  For,  during  the  Blink,  he  had  for  advisers  three- 
men,  whose  names  it  is  a  gladness  to  recall,  and  who  stand 
out  in  bright  relief  from  the  sordid  crowd  of  needy  nobles 
and  ruthless  soldiers  and  haughty  churchmen.  They  lent 
character  and  refinement,  for  one  or  two  quickly  fleeting 
years,  to  the  cause  of  absolutism.  And  they  had  within  them 
what  Middleton  and  Eothes  and  Sharp  never  had,  or  else 
had  killed  and  lost  —  a  heart  of  compassionateness  and 
magnanimity. 

One  of  them  was  the  Earl  of  Tweeddale.  In  the  Parlia- 
ment which  condemned  James  Guthrie  to  die,  he  had  the 
courage  to  vote  against  the  capital  sentence  ;  "  not  but  that 
I  thought  he  deserved  it,  but  some  circumstances — as  the 
disorders  of  the  times,  the  general  distractions  of  men's  minds, 
and  the  fact  that  the  restraining  power  of  the  laws  was  too- 


THE  BLINK  165 

sadly  abated,  and  the  execution  of  them  loosed — did  incline 
me  to  another  punishment."  For  his  boldness  and  humanity 
he  was  thrown  into  prison  in  Edinburgh ;  and  for  nine 
months,  from  September  in  1661  until  May  in  1662,  the 
dungeon  shut  him  in.  Ordinarily  a  man  is  seen  either  at  his 
best  or  at  his  worst  in  his  own  home ;  and,  if  we  subject  Lord 
Tweeddale  to  this  test,  our  liking  for  him  is  increased.  In  a 
delightful  letter  written  to  Lauderdale,  whose  one  daughter 
was  married  to  his  son,  he  discloses  most  naturally  and 
winningly  his  affection  for  children  and  grandchildren.  He 
has  returned  to  Yester  after  a  period  of  absence — to  Yester, 
"  wher  I  found  them  all  weal,  and  was  qwikly  encompassed 
with  children  striving  who  should  be  most  mead  of.  Charles 
is  grouen  ane  mighty  kind  child,  and  left  all  his  frowardnes, 
and,  I  think,  squints  noe  mor  then  he  did.  I  asked  Jhon  if 
he  knew  me ;  he  said,  '  Ay,  ay,'  and  clapid  my  cheek,  and 
kissid  both  of  them,  and  asked  for  his  grandfather  at  London. 
Ann  is  grouen  a  pleasant  and  bewtiful  child.  My  littel 
dawghter  Jean,  when  she  saw  me  mak  mor,  as  she  thought,  of 
the  rest  than  hir,  said,  '  I  am  a  bairn  too,' "  Such  a  letter 
opens  a  window  into  Tweeddale's  nature ;  and,  when  we  look 
through  the  panes,  we  see  what  is  inviting  and  tender. 

Another  of  Lauderdale's  counsellors  was  Alexander  Bruce, 
second  Earl  of  Kincardine,  a  statesman  of  insight  and  of 
integrity.  It  was  his  wish  from  the  first  to  deal  liberally  with 
the  Kirk ;  and  if  clemency  could  be  shown,  without  seeming 
to  be  extorted  through  the  alarm  of  the  Government  and  the 
acknowledged  strength  of  the  Covenanters,  he  was  prepared 
to  show  it.  "  I  am,  in  my  privat  opinion,  for  a  qualified 
toleration,"  he  declared,  "but  I  wold  have  it  given  and  not 
taken ;  and  I  thinke  it  is  not  to  be  given  so  long  as  they  thinke 
themselves  so  considerable  as  to  oblidge  the  grantting  of  it." 
It  would  have  been  a  rich  benefit  to  the  distracted  country  if 
Kincardine,  with  his  rectitude  and  kindliness,  had  remained 
longer  in  office.  He  did  continue  with  Lauderdale,  from 
whose  guidance  of  affairs  he  hoped  for  many  reforms,  after  the 
other  two  had  been  forced  to  go.  But  at  length  his  patience 
was  worn  out ;  and  he  broke  with  the  Commissioner,  whose 


i66  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

despotic  exercise  of  authority  and  gross  personal  sins  had 
grown  repugnant  to  his  own  purer  mind  and  sweeter 
temper. 

But  the  most  attractive  of  the  trio  is  Sir  Kobert  Moray. 
The  wonder  is  that  so  chivalrous  a  gentleman,  Evelyn's  "  deare 
and  excellent  friend,"  and  the  comrade  of  comrades  to  whom 
Thomas  Vaughan,  the  Silurist's  philosophic  brother,  left  all  his 
papers,  because  he  knew  no  one  else  whom  he  could  trust  with 
such  fidelity — the  wonder  is  that  he  should  be  found  in  con- 
junction with  the  persecutors  at  all.     In  truth,  it  was  against 
his  will  that  he  engaged  in  the  drudgery  of  politics,  and  was 
dragged  away  from   employments   and   companionships  more 
congenial.     He  loved  his  books,  his  chemical  retorts,  his  music, 
his  medical  researches,  and  those  familiar  intimates  to  whom 
he  could  unbosom  his  heart  with  none  of   the  diplomatist's 
concealments   and   equivocations.      He    was    happier   in   his 
Presidency  of  the  Eoyal  Society  than  in  his  toils  and  worries 
and    disappointments    as    Privy    Councillor.      The    Earl    of 
Kincardine  knew  him  well ;   the  two  had  been  as  brothers 
during  their  season  of  exile  before  the  Ptestoration ;   and  no 
speck  of  cloud  ever  crept  over  the  serene  sky  of  their  fellow- 
ship.    One  may  read  the  beautiful  letters  which  Moray  sent 
to  Alexander  Bruce,  while  the  one  was  in  Maestricht  and  the 
other  in  Bremen;  and  whoever   reads  them  will  become  a 
thrall    to  the  enchantments  of  the  fascinating  scribe — they 
are  luminous  with  wisdom,  with  humour,  with  wide  literary 
culture,  with  unassuming  religion.     Experiment  and  scientific 
study  are  much  more  to  the  writer  than  all  the  intrigues  of 
princes  and  parliaments.     "  Here  I  stopt,"  he  says,  breaking 
off  in  the  middle  of  a  story,  "  to  blow  the  coals  in  the  stove 
under  my  feet,  though  I  be  sitting  at  the  cheek  of  a  furnace 
will  gar  your  eyn  reel  when  you  see  it."     He  has  unspeakable 
rest  and  comfort  in  his  knowledge  that  there  is  not  a  jar,  not  a 
jealousy,  not  a  disquieting  element,  in  their  most  satisfying 
alliance.     "  I  find  it  in  my  heart,"  he   owns,  "  to   set  every 
word  I  get  from  you  in  diamonds."     He  describes,  with  the 
enthusiast's  devotion,  his  "  three  fiddles  hanging  on  the  wall "  ; 
but  there,  in  the  strange  land,  he  can  extract  little  satisfaction 


THE  BLINK  167 

from  their  melody :  "  to  tell  you  truely,  I  am  not  much  for  cul- 
tivating of  musick  till  God  send  me  dayes  of  joy  and  mirth,  if 
at  least  He  hath  markt  out  any  such  for  us."  His  friend  at 
one  time  lies  ill  of  ague,  and  he  reminds  him  of  what  is  the 
secret  of  consolation  :  "  you  know  whatsoever  your  kind,  wise, 
good,  and  powerful  Father  sends  to  you,  or  does  with  you,  is 
the  very  best  that  can  befall  you,  how  dark  soever  His  ways  be 
to  your  grief,  or  His  touches  to  your  relish."  He  talks  of  his 
own  spiritual  longings  and  strivings :  "  I  shall  tell  you  it  hath 
been  my  study  now  thirty-one  years  to  understand  and  regulate 
my  passions  ;  the  whole  story  of  my  progress  in  this,  and  God's 
dealings  with  me  in  it,  will  be  as  open  to  you  as  you  would 
have  it."  In  large  measure,  Robert  Moray  kept  himself  un- 
spotted from  the  world.  If  further  proof  of  it  were  needed, 
there  is  the  fact  that  another  cherished  and  reverenced 
correspondent  was  his  sister-in-law,  Anna  Mackenzie,  Lady 
Balcarres,  "  exquisite  alike  in  person  and  in  mind  " ;  the  man 
who  could  bind  such  friends  to  himself,  and  could  hold  them 
unchanged  to  the  end,  must  have  carried  in  him  a  crystalline 
soul.  When  1660  came,  and  Charles  and  Lauderdale  leaped 
from  poverty  to  power,  they  compelled  Moray,  unambitious  as 
he  was,  to  give  them  his  help.  Let  us  remember  it  to  His 
Majesty's  praise,  when  the  witnesses  to  his  discredit  are  legion, 
that  he  felt  an  extraordinary  regard  for  one  who  had  nothing 
in  common  with  himself,  except  the  pleasure  in  chemistry  and 
the  brilliance  in  conversation  which  they  both  shared.  As  for 
the  nobleman,  he  made  Alexander  Bruce's  companion  his  own 
Secretary,  and  consulted  him  always.  In  the  summer  of  the 
Restoration  year  he  sent  him  across  to  France,  to  secure  from 
the  French  Presbyterians  an  opinion  in  favour  of  moderate 
Episcopacy.  And  now,  in  his  personal  rule  over  Scotland, 
there  was  none  on  whom  he  leaned  more  confidingly,  or  who 
better  deserved  his  trust. 

So  long  as  such  men  got  their  will,  there  was  little  like- 
lihood of  excessive  tyranny.  But  the  Blink,  after  all,  was 
but  a  blink ;  it  was  not  confirmed  and  abiding  summer.  As 
early  as  1670,  there  was  a  new  bit  of  savagery,  the  outcome 
of  the  Indulgence  of  the  previous  year,  to  which  Tweeddale 


i68  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

and  Kincardine  and  Moray  were  somehow  constrained  to  yield 
their  consent.  This  was  the  Act  against  conventicles.  The 
ministers  who  persisted  in  remaining  without  the  Church  were 
forbidden  to  pray  and  preach  except  in  their  own  houses  and 
among  the  members  of  their  own  families.  If  they  dared  to 
conduct  a  service  of  religion  in  a  home  not  their  own,  they 
were  imprisoned  until  they  gave  proof  of  their  willingness 
not  to  offend  in  the  like  fashion  again,  and,  if  the  proof  were 
not  forthcoming,  they  were  compelled  to  leave  the  country. 
Those  who  had  attended  the  service  were  heavily  fined,  the 
master  or  mistress  of  the  house  being  required  to  pay  a  sum 
the  double  of  that  exacted  from  others.  But  the  full  weight 
of  severity  fell  on  the  meetings  held  in  the  fields.  The 
preacher  there,  or  even  in  a  building  so  crowded  that  some 
were  standing  out  of  doors,  was  to  be  punished  with  death  and 
with  the  confiscation  of  his  goods.  Anyone  arresting  him  was 
to  receive  a  reward  of  thirty  pounds,  and  to  have  a  free  pardon 
if,  in  performing  his  disagreeable  duty,  he  had  killed  the 
minister  or  some  of  the  obstinate  and  misguided  listeners. 
Those  who  had  been  present  at  a  field-preaching  were  liable  to 
fines  extravagant  and  crushing  in  their  amount.  And,  under 
the  terror  of  these  exorbitant  dues,  the  people  were  commanded 
to  repair  regularly  to  the  worship  conducted  by  the  curates  or 
by  the  indulged  preachers  inside  the  churches.  It  was  the 
advent  of  winter  once  more — "  no  roses  but  only  thorns  to- 
day " ;  and  again  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Covenant  were 
out  under  a  frowning  heaven. 

It  is  almost  inexplicable  that  high-minded  and  gracious 
men,  like  the  three  into  whose  faces  we  have  looked,  should 
have  stained  their  consciences  and  tarnished  their  fame  by 
agreeing  to  the  unjust  Act.  We  can  only  account  for  it  by 
remembering  the  stronger  will  behind  them,  which  employed 
them  as  its  exponents  and  agents.  In  fact,  their  brief  and 
clement  mastership  was  soon  to  be  ended.  Lord  Lauderdale 
and  they  were  to  part  company  and  go  their  separate  ways. 
It  was  a  woman's  hand  which  sundered  the  ruler  of  Scotland 
from  his  best  friends.  His  first  wife,  poor  Anne  Hume,  died 
in  1671.     He  had  sent  her  to  France,  ostensibly  for  the  benefit 


JOHN   MAITLAND,    EARL   OF   LAUDERDALE. 
After  a,  Painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lcly. 


THE  BLINK  169 

of  her  health,  but  more   probably  that  he  might   enjoy   the 
freedom  which  her  absence  would  afford.     Her  last  letter  to 
him  was  written  from  Paris.     It  is  a  pathetic  little  epistle, 
asking  him  to  see  that  a  house  which  she  owned  in  Highgate 
should  be  repaired,  before  it  fell  in  ruins  to  the  ground.     He 
had  filled  the  upper  rooms  with  those  multitudinous  books  of 
his,  and  it  was  unable  to  sustain  so  great  a  load ;  for  what  was 
it  but  a  slim  and  paltry  erection  of  paper  ?     If  he  would  not 
do  so  trifling  a  service  for  her  sake,  let  him  do  it,  she  begs, 
for  his  own ;  for  the  place  would  belong  to  his  family  when 
she  was   gone.     "  I  have  wreiten   menei   leters   to  you,"   she 
concludes   mournfully   enough ;    "  I   shal   deseir   an   anseur." 
Death  came  to  rescue  the  Earl  of  Hume's  daughter  from  the 
slights  and   sorrows  of   years,  and    to  liberate   her   vmgentle 
husband  from  the  trammels  of  a  union  of  which  he  was  tired. 
In  1672  he  married  again.     His  new  bride  was  the  Countess  of 
Dysart,  a  woman  with  plenty  of  brains  but  without  any  heart, 
who  had  a  bad  history  behind  her,  and  who  for  the  future  was 
to  play  Herodias  to  his  Herod.     She  did  not  love  him;  she 
used  him  as  a  convenient  tool  to  bring  her  money  and  applause. 
If  he  had  been  overbearing  before,  he  became  tenfold  more  so 
under  his  wife's  evil  influence.     He  "  lowered  to  her  level  day 
by  day,"  until,  as  she  was  destitute  of  all  that  is  holiest  in 
woman,  he  lost  all  that  is  strongest  and  most  righteous  in  man. 
It  was  a  pitiful  degeneracy  ;  but  there  seemed  no  chance  of 
checking  its  progress.     Lady  Dysart's  jealousy  drove  Eobert 
Moray  from  Lauderdale's  side — Eobert  Moray  who  had  known 
how  to  touch  pitch  without  being  defiled.     By  and  by  there 
was  a  hopeless  quarrel  with  Tweeddale.     In  a  few  years  more, 
Kincardine,  too,  said  his  farewells.     Then,  with  these  ministers 
of  conciliation  and  worth  removed  from  the  councils  of  the 
nation,  "  hard  came  to   hard,"   and   the   Covenanters   passed 
anew  into  an  era  of  "  boots,  thumbikins,  and  fire-matches,  the 
bloody  rope  to  the  neck,  and  bullets  to  the  head."     But  the 
wise  student  of   the  time  will  be  sorrier  for  their  oppressor 
than  he  is  for  them. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  FIELD   PREACHER. 

IT  is  a  foolish,  but  not  an  uncommon,  mistake — the  notion 
that  the  men  of  the  Covenant  were  all  of  lowly  and 
plebeian  birth.  The  dedicated  army,  with  its  banner  of  blue 
and  its  passion  for  the  kingly  rights  of  Christ,  drew  most  of 
its  recruits  from  the  peasants  and  shepherds  of  the  countryside 
and  from  the  traders  in  the  towns ;  and  these  homely  warriors, 
as  they  fought  their  spiritual  battle,  showed  as  fine  a  courage  as 
any  paladins  of  the  Court.  But  there  were  men  and  women 
of  higher  degree  proud  to  associate  themselves  with  the  cause 
of  Presbytery.  Some  of  the  wise  and  mighty  were  called,  and 
with  promptitude  they  answered  the  call. 

John  Blackader  is  one  of  the  gentlefolks  who  rallied  to  the 
defence  of  the  Kirk,  He  was  the  scion  of  a  famous  family. 
The  original  home  of  his  kindred  was  in  Berwickshire  ;  and 
among  his  forebears  there  were  figures  valorous  and  pictur- 
esque. In  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  "  the  Black 
Band  of  the  Blackaders,"  father  and  seven  sons,  each  of  them 
swarthy  in  complexion,  had,  time  and  again,  beaten  back  the 
invading  English  ;  "  weakness  was  not  in  their  word,  weariness 
not  on  their  brow."  They  did  not  restrict  their  exploits  to 
Scottish  soil  and  to  the  defence  of  their  own  castles  and  crofts. 
Like  Job's  warhorse,  they  scented  the  battle  from  afar.  Those 
were  the  days  when  the  southern  kingdom  was  rent  by  the 
contentions  of  York  and  Lancaster ;  and  Cuthbert  Blackader 
with  his  dauntless  seven  marshalled  themselves  under  the 
standard  of  the  Eed  Eose.  But,  if  they  reaped  renown  in 
England,  they  found  dule  and  death  waiting  for  them  too.  On 
Bosworth  field  the  veteran  and  three  of  his  Black  Band  were 


A  FIELD  PREACHER  171 

slain ;  and  the  survivors  came  home  grieved  for  the  flowers  of 
the  forest  that  blossomed  at  their  side  no  longer.  Yet,  because 
they  had  been  so  brave,  James  of  Scotland  granted  them  and 
their  heirs  the  privilege  of  carrying  on  their  shields  the  two 
Eoses,  Ked  and  White.  Their  crest  was  a  right  hand  holding 
aloft  a  broadsword,  and  their  motto  ran,  "  Courage  helps 
Fortune." 

In  later  years  a  sea  of  troubles  overtook  the  Blackaders. 
The  Homes  of  Wedderburn  were  at  feud  with  them,  and  in  the 
strife  they  fared  badly.  Ultimately  the  Berwickshire  branch 
lost  its  commanding  position,  and  the  honour  of  maintaining  the 
household  name  passed  to  younger  sons  who  had  come  by 
marriage  into  the  estate  of  Tulliallan  in  Perthshire.  Our  field 
preacher  is  of  the  Tulliallan  stock.  He  was  born  in  the 
December  of  1615.  But,  although  he  had  "some  claim  to 
distinction,"  as  his  Memoirs  say,  because  he  was  "  the  repre- 
sentative of  an  ancient  and  once  opulent  house,"  his  was  to  be 
a  different  and  a  holier  fame.  He  was,  his  student  son  Eobert 
wrote  in  1686,  when  his  father's  race  was  run,  "a  good  soldier 
and  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  esteemed  his  Master's  re- 
proaches greater  riches  than  all  the  treasures  and  pleasures 
of  this  Egyptian  world."  Old  Cuthbert  Blackader,  trusty  as  a 
tree,  was  not  more  unbending  than  John  Blackader,  the  minister 
of  the  Covenant. 

After  being  trained  under  his  uncle,  William  Strang, 
Principal  of  Glasgow  College,  where  "  Sion  became  the  rival 
of  Athens  and  Eome,"  he  went  up  and  down  the  country 
preaching  the  Gospel.  One  is  at  some  loss  to  understand 
why  he  was  so  long  in  finding  a  charge  of  his  own ;  not  until 
1653,  when  he  was  a  man  of  thirty-seven,  was  he  ordained 
over  the  parish  of  Troqueer,  in  the  Presbytery  of  Dumfries. 
But  it  was  well  that  he  came  to  his  work  in  the  maturity  of 
his  powers.  His  parish  was  sadly  backward.  The  people 
were  ignorant,  some  of  them  living  in  scandalous  sin,  many 
inclined  to  popish  beliefs  and  ways.  He  had  an  uphill  road 
to  travel ;  but  in  due  time  he  gained  the  topmost  ridge.  First 
he  reformed  the  eldership,  and  then  gradually  changed  the 
face   of   the   congregation  and   of   the  whole  neighbourhood. 


172  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Twice  every  Sabbath  he  preached,  and  once,  too,  every 
Tuesday,  "except  in  the  throng  of  seedtime  and  harvest." 
In  his  sermons  he  explored  and  explained  the  whole  territory 
of  saving  knowledge.  All  who  could  read  he  exhorted  to 
provide  themselves  with  Bibles,  and  those  who  could  not  were 
enjoined  to  seek  out  some  family  where,  round  the  altar  set 
up  on  the  hearth,  they  might  listen  to  God's  Word.  In 
spring,  and  again  in  autumn,  he  catechised  his  parishioners. 
It  was  a  duty  performed  in  no  perfunctory  style.  He  "  took 
inspection  into  their  behaviour."  He  had  many  a  searching 
question.  Did  they  remember  secret  prayer  ?  Morning  and 
evening  did  they  kneel  together  at  the  throne  of  their  Father 
and  their  King  ?  Was  the  Sabbath  a  delight  ?  Did  the 
parents  instruct  their  children  in  the  truth  ?  If  they  had 
servants,  did  they  "  curb  profanity  in  any  whom  they  found 
to  miscarry  "  ?  Somewhat  rigid  the  old-time  oversight  of  the 
flock  may  seem ;  but  it  bore  a  salutary  harvest.  Troqueer 
and  its  minister  and  session  may  have  been  one  of  the  places 
which  Bishop  Burnet  had  in  his  thoughts,  when  he  penned 
his  tribute  to  the  Presbyterians  of  the  Commonwealth : 
"  They  had  brought  the  people  to  such  a  degree  of  knowledge 
that  cottagers  and  servants  would  have  prayed  extempore ; 
they  had  a  comprehension  of  matters  of  religion  greater  than 
I  have  seen  among  people  of  that  sort  anywhere." 

For  nine  years  John  Blackader  pursued  his  calling,  till 
the  advent  of  Middleton's  Glasgow  Act;  and  he  was  among 
the  faithful  who  could  not  bow  the  knee.  On  a  November 
Sabbath,  with  the  noise  of  sobbing  heard  through  the  church, 
he  took  his  farewell.  The  dragoons  from  Dumfries  were 
there ;  but  meantime  they  did  not  meddle  him.  During  the 
week  which  succeeded,  from  sunrise  until  far  in  the  night,  he 
moved  from  family  to  family,  praying  in  each  farm -kitchen  and 
cottage,  and  commending  to  God  every  separate  soul.  Then, 
on  Saturday,  he  rode  away  to  Glencairn,  to  seek  a  place  of 
safety  beyond  the  bounds  of  his  presbytery.  His  wife  and 
children  were  to  follow.  But  no  sooner  was  he  gone  than  the 
soldiers  returned.  They  attacked  the  manse,  and  behaved 
with  cruelty  and  insolence  to  its  defenceless  inmates.     One 


A  FIELD  PREACHER  173 

of  the  boys  never  forgot  the  wild  "  Blew-benders,"  nor  the 
adventures  of  the  critical  day.  "  Bag  and  baggatch,  v^e  who 
were  the  children  were  put  into  cadgers'  creels,  where  one  of 
us  cried  out,  coming  throw  the  Brigend  of  Dumfries,  '  I'm 
banisht !  I'm  banisht ! '  "  The  Troqueer  ministry  had  an 
ending  both  sudden  and  sore. 

John  Blackader  did  not  commence  at  once  to  preach  in  the 
fields.  If  he  was  fervent  of  soul,  he  was  cautious  in  action ; 
the  epitaph  on  his  tomb  celebrates  the  balance  and  equipoise  of 
his  nature — 

Zeal  warmed  his  breast,  and  reason  cooled  his  head. 

As  long  as  might  be,  he  refrained  from  giving  provocation 
to  the  authorities.  And  so  there  were  some  who  held  con- 
venticles before  he  went  out  to  hillside  and  glen.  There  was 
Gabriel  Sempill,  for  instance,  also  the  son  of  a  noble  house. 
And  there  was  John  Welsh  of  Irongray. 

We  must  tarry  over  Welsh's  name ;  he  is  one  of  the  kings 
of  the  time.  His  father  and  his  grandfather  were  ministers 
before  him  ;  he  was  himself  the  great-grandson  of  John  Knox  ; 
and  he  inherited  the  godliness  and  the  manliness  of  his 
progenitors.  He  had  been  a  co-presbyter  with  Blackader, 
and,  like  him,  had  been  driven  out  by  Middleton's  folly.  In 
his  case,  too,  the  importunity  and  the  affection  of  the  parish 
pursued  the  preacher,  and  would  scarcely  let  him  go.  His 
horse  waited  for  him  at  the  Water  of  Cluden,  and  he  had  to 
dash  into  the  stream  and  gallop  rapidly  away.  Even  then, 
through  the  wintry  little  river,  men  and  women  followed  him, 
not  turning  back  while  he  remained  in  sight.  It  makes  us 
think  of  a  similar  scene  in  a  different  place  and  time.  When 
Sir  Henry  Lawrence  left  the  government  of  the  Punjab 
in  1853,  grief  was  written  on  every  face.  Old  and  young, 
rich  and  poor,  soldiers  and  civilians,  Englishmen  and  natives, 
felt  that  they  were  losing  a  friend.  Strong  men,  like  Sir 
Herbert  Edwardes,  might  be  seen  weeping  like  children.  A 
cavalcade  of  Sikh  chiefs  accompanied  the  departing  ruler, 
some  for  five,  others  for  ten,  others  for  twenty  or  twenty-five 


174  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

miles.  It  was  a  long,  living  funeral  procession  from  Lahore 
nearly  to  Umritsur.  None  knew  Sir  Henry  Lawrence  but  to 
love  him.     And  it  was  the  same  with  John  Welsh. 

In  one  respect  the  members  of  his  flock  were  happier 
than  their  neighbours  at  Troqueer.  He  continued  their 
pastor  in  a  sense,  although  he  was  not  allowed  to  speak 
within  the  church  walls.  In  defiance  of  every  hostile  edict, 
he  returned  again  and  again ;  sometimes  he  was  back,  in  valley 
or  in  wood  or  in  meadow,  once  a  week  for  successive  months ; 
there  was  not  a  child  whom  he  did  not  baptise ;  often  the 
familiar  voice  was  heard  proclaiming  the  familiar  message. 
But  now  it  might  be  said  that  he  had  taken  all  the  Lowlands 
for  his  diocese.  Summer  and  winter  he  was  engaged  in  field 
meetings.  "  The  boldest  undertaker " — the  most  audacious 
lion-heart — "  that  ever  I  knew  a  minister  in  Christ's  Church  " : 
it  is  James  Kirkton's  tribute.  "  For,  notwithstanding  the 
threatenings  of  the  State,  the  great  price  of  £500  set  upon  his 
head,  the  spite  of  bishops,  the  diligence  of  all  bloodhounds, 
he  maintained  his  difficult  task  of  preaching  upon  the 
mountains  of  Scotland,  many  times  to  many  thousands,  for 
near  twenty  years."  "  I  have  known,"  his  biographer  adds, 
"  Mr.  Welsh  ride  three  days  and  two  nights  without  sleep, 
and  preach  upon  a  mountain  at  midnight  on  one  of  the  nights. 
He  had  for  some  time  a  dwelling-house  near  Tweedside ;  and, 
when  Tweed  was  strongly  frozen,  he  preached  in  the  middle 
of  the  river,  that  either  he  might  shun  the  offence  of  both 
nations,  or  that  two  Kingdoms  might  dispute  his  crime."  We 
catch  glimpses  of  him,  too,  with  a  bodyguard  of  twelve 
gentlemen  in  scarlet,  whom  he  had  bound  to  himself  in  a 
loyalty  as  devoted  as  that  of  the  Gittites  to  David,  journeying 
hither  and  thither  on  horseback,  through  the  green  trees  of 
the  woods,  and  among  the  fields  of  the  Lothians  and  Fife. 
There  were  the  vivid  colours  of  romance,  and  the  charm  of 
mystery,  and  the  poetry  of  peril,  about  a  minister's  life  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years  ago. 

John  Welsh's  word  was  with  power.  Once,  when  he  was 
chased  unrelentingly,  he  hardly  knew  where  to  flee ;  but, 
relying  on  Scottish  hospitality,  he  knocked  at  the  door  of 


A  FIELD  PREACHER 


175 


a  landlord,  bitterly  opposed  to  the  field  preachers  and  to 
himself  in  particular,  although  he  had  never  actually  set 
eyes  on  him.  The  stranger,  being  unrecognised,  was  received 
with  kindness.  In  the  evening's  talk  reference  was  made  to 
Welsh,  and  the  host  complained  of  the  difficulty  of  capturing 
him.  "  I  am  sent,"  the  visitor  said,  "  to  apprehend  rebels  ;  I 
know  where  he  is  to  preach  to-morrow ;  I  will  put  his  hand 
into  yours."  Overjoyed,  the  gentleman  agreed  to  accompany 
his  informant  next  morning.  When  they  arrived  at  the 
appointed  spot,  the  congregation  had  assembled.  The  people 
made  way  for  the  minister  whom  they  trusted  and  for  his 
comrade.  Welsh  desired  his  entertainer  to  sit  down  on  the 
solitary  chair  which  had  been  provided  for  himself,  and, 
to  his  companion's  utter  bewilderment,  took  his  own  stand 
beside  it,  and  rang  out  the  story  of  sin  and  salvation.  The 
Spirit  of  God  was  there  ;  and  the  landlord  was  heart-broken. 
When  at  the  close,  Welsh,  fulfilling  his  promise,  gave  him  his 
hand,  that  he  might  do  with  him  whatever  he  wished,  he 
said :  "  You  told  me  that  you  were  sent  to  apprehend  rebels ; 
and  I,  a  rebellious  sinner,  have  been  apprehended  this  day." 

But  let  us  return  to  John  Blackader.  He  continued  in  his 
Galloway  retreat,  until,  by  a  fresh  onslaught  of  persecution,  he 
was  driven  forth  into  the  wider  sphere  of  work.  Early  in  the 
winter  of  1666,  Sir  James  Turner  and  a  party  of  soldiers  came 
looking  for  him.  Happily  he  was  himself  absent  in  Edinburgh  ; 
but  again  wife  and  bairns  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  "  rascally 
ruffians  " ;  and,  again,  we  have  the  best  account  of  what  happened 
in  the  artless  words  of  one  of  the  children.  He  tells  how, 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  dragoons  surrounded  the 
house,  "  cursing  on  the  Whigs  to  open  the  door  " ;  how,  when 
they  got  in,  they  went  to  stools  and  chairs,  and  demolished 
them  with  their  swords,  to  make  a  fire ;  how  they  "  stabbed 
through  beds  and  bed-clothes,"  to  find  the  man  for  whom  they 
were  in  search ;  how  they  "  threw  down  his  books  from  the 
press  upon  the  floor,  and  caused  poor  me  hold  the  candle  till 
they  had  examined  them  ;  and  all  they  thought  whiggish,  as 
they  termed  it — and  brave  judges  they  were ! — they  put  into 


176  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

a  great  horse-creel,  and  took  away  "  ;  how  they  "  climbed  up  to 
the  hen-bauks,  where  the  cocks  and  hens  were,  and,  as  they 
came  to  one,  threw  about  its  neck,  and  down  to  the  floor  wi't, 
and  so  on,  till  they  had  destroyed  them  all."  Glad  at  heart 
the  boy  of  ten  was,  when  he  managed  to  elude  his  tormentors. 
"Naked  to  the  shirt,"  he  ran  through  the  darkness  to  "the 
Brigend  of  Mennihyvie " ;  and  there,  discovering  that  the  in- 
habitants were  still  deep  in  slumber,  he  climbed  to  the  upper- 
most step  of  the  village  Cross,  and  fell  fast  asleep.  "  Between 
five  and  six,  a  door  opens,  and  an  old  woman  comes  out ;  and, 
seeing  a  white  thing  upon  the  Cross,  comes  near  it ;  and,  when 
she  found  it  was  a  little  boy,  cries  out,  *  Save  us !  what  art 
thou  ? '  With  that  I  awaked,  and  answered  her,  *  I'm  Mr. 
Blackader's  son/  '  0,  my  puir  bairn !  what  brought  thee  here  ? ' 
I  answers, '  There's  a  hantle  of  fearful  men  with  red  coats  has 
burnt  all  our  house.'  '  0,  puir  thing  ! '  says  she,  '  come  in,  and 
lye  down  in  my  warm  bed.' "  And  the  child  did  as  he  was 
bidden,  and  it  was  the  sweetest  bed  ever  he  met  with. 

It  was  this  rude  visitation  of  Turner's  soldiery  which  com- 
pelled Blackader  into  his  larger  bishopric.  He  tried  no  longer 
to  conciliate  masters  who  were  so  barbarous.  He  became  one 
of  the  chiefs  in  the  great  conventicles  of  the  time ;  John  Welsh 
and  Gabriel  Sempill  and  he  were  "  the  Three  First  Worthies." 
"  He  was  another  indefatigable  Paul,"  says  his  soldier  son. 
Colonel  Blackader,  "  travelling  through  most  parts  of  Scotland, 
except  among  the  Highlanders,  whose  case  he  sadly  regretted  ; 
for  I  heard  him  many  a  time  say  he  would  be  content  to  go 
a  thousand  miles  on  foot  to  have  had  the  Highland  language." 
The  "  intolerable  craving "  to  save  shivered  through  him,  like 
a  trumpet-call. 

We  must  think  of  him,  in  the  years  which  ensued,  having 
his  headquarters  in  Edinburgh,  but  hastening  everywhere  on 
his  divine  errands.  Through  trustworthy  channels  messages 
were  sent  to  him,  to  inform  him  that  a  crowd  of  those  who 
were  hungering  for  the  Bread  of  Life  proposed  to  meet  at  this 
selected  spot  or  that  other ;  and  then  he  and  his  good  horse 
would  sally  forth  in  time  for  the  gathering.  Thus,  in  Sep- 
tember 1G68,  "  there   came   a  man  from  Dunlop   parish "   to 


A  FIELD  PREACHER  177 

iN'ewmilns,  where  the  preacher  was  lodged  for  a  few  days.     "  So 
he  rode  about  nine  miles  of  very  bad  road,  and  came  to  the 
place   very  weary,  expecting  to  have  gotten  rest  that  night. 
But  the  people  had  trysted  the  parents  with  their  children,  so 
he  behoved  to  address  himself  to  the  work,  and  went  about 
eleven  o'clock  at  night  to  a  great  meeting ;  where  he  preached  an 
hour  and  a  half;  and  thereafter  baptised  forty-two  children, 
dividing  them,  the  one  half  at  one  time,  the  other  afterwards, 
because  they  could  not  get  all  conveniently  stood  together ;  and, 
after  this  was  done,  it  was  hard  on  break  of  day."     In  January 
1669,  he  is  at  Fenwick,  with  its  memories  of  William  Guthrie, 
where   there    has  been  no  Presbyterian   preaching   since   the 
defeat   at  Pentland.     But,  by  his   too  abundant  toils,  he  has 
made  himself  ill ;  and  for  sixteen  weeks  he  is  imprisoned  in 
the  sickroom.     No  sooner  is  health  restored  than  the  work 
is  resumed.     At  Bo'ness  he  establishes  a  new  congregation. 
At  Paisley  he  has  a  multitude  of  twelve  hundred  listeners. 
At  a  burnside,  in  the  moors  near  Livingstone,  where  his  text 
was  the  tender  word.  The  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save 
that   which  is   lost,  an  assemblage  from  many  parishes  hangs 
on  his  lips.     "  The  people  seemed  to  smell  him  out  in  spite  of 
his  caution " ;  like  his  King  and  Friend,  he  could  not  be  hid. 
Living  so  much  in  the  sun  and  the  keen  air,  facing  the  weather 
in  heat  and  cold,  he  discovered  that  his  sight,  employed  hitherto 
in  quiet  reading  and  study,  was  being  much  impaired.     But  he 
did  not  grieve  over  the  loss.     "  The  eye  in  the  heart  that  lies  " 
grew  clearer  with  every  year. 

Some  of  the  conventicles  in  which  he  played  a  principal  part 
were  very  noteworthy.  There  was,  for  example,  the  gathering 
on  the  Hill  of  Beath,  near  Dunfermline,  in  the  midsummer 
of  1670.  It  was  a  district  where  ignorance  and  profanity  were 
prevalent ;  and,  "  for  the  more  solemnity  and  upstirring  of  a 
barbarous  people,"  the  preacher  took  a  colleague  with  him. 
John  Dickson  was  his  companion.  Having  crossed  the  Firth 
of  Forth  on  Saturday  night,  and  having  slept  for  a  few  hours 
at  Inverkeithing  without  putting  off  bis  clothes,  Blackader  rose 
early,  and  went  in  quest  of  the  meeting-place,  Abeady  the  con- 
gregation was  there,  for  worship  was  to  begin  at  eight  o'clock. 


178  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

First  Dickson  lectured,  standing  in  the  mouth  of  the  tent,  and 
addressing  the  crowd  which  thronged  the  braeside.  Then 
John  Blackader  pi-eached  from  that  favourite  text  of  Cove- 
nanting ministers,  He  must  reign  till  He  hath  put  all  enemies 
under  His  feet.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  ere  he  finished ;  and 
there  was  to  be  an  interval  of  rest  before  the  work  of  the 
afternoon.  But  there  had  been  signs  that  those  present  were 
not  all  friends ;  and  now,  when  the  preacher  started  anew, 
things  looked  threatening.  A  lieutenant  of  militia  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  and  came  in  among  the  people  massed  on  the 
minister's  left  hand.  Fortunately  Blackader's  second  discourse 
had  the  wooing  note  in  it.  It  was  "  composing  and  gaining, 
holding  forth  the  great  design  of  the  Gospel,  to  invite  aud 
make  welcome  all  sorts  of  sinners  without  exception."  The 
lieutenant  could  find  no  fault ;  he  "  stood  a  space,  and  heard 
peaceably."  Yet  there  might  easily  have  been  a  conflagration. 
For,  when  the  officer  lifted  his  foot  to  the  stirrup  to  ride 
off,  some  tried  to  prevent  him,  and  he  thrust  them  back ;  and 
there  was  prospect  of  tumult,  and  perhaps  of  bloodshed.  But 
Blackader  saw  it,  and  interrupted  his  sermon,  and  went  to  the 
soldier's  assistance.  Calming  the  angry  men  with  wise  words, 
he  spoke  to  the  officer :  "  Let  me  see,  sir,  who  will  offer  to 
wrong  you.  They  shall  as  soon  wrong  myself;  for  we  came 
here  to  do  violence  to  no  man,  but  to  proclaim  the  Gospel  of 
peace.  If  you  be  pleased  to  stay,  you  shall  be  as  welcome  as 
any ;  but,  if  you  will  not,  you  are  free  to  go."  The  lieutenant 
escaped  scathless,  and  the  services  proceeded  until  late  in  the 
day.  Very  tired  the  minister  was,  before  he  reached  his 
Edinburgh  home  next  morning.  At  Queensferry  he  could 
not  induce  a  boatman  to  row  him  over  the  Firth,  and  he 
had  perforce  to  ride  the  long  way  round  by  Stirling.  He  was 
seven  hours  in  the  saddle,  after  all  the  mental  and  spiritual 
exertion  of  the  memorable  Sabbath.  Were  not  his  campaigns 
as  exacting  as  those  of  his  fighting  ancestors  ? 

The  Dunfermline  conventicle  is  worth  remembering  for 
another  reason.  It  was  one  of  the  first  to  which  many  of  the 
worshippers  came  armed.  In  1670  the  Blink  was  almost  over, 
and  Lauderdale's  administration  was  again  becoming  pitiless. 


A  FIELD  PREACHER  179 

So  the  Covenanters  did  what  they  had  not  done  before,  but 
what  they  repeated  frequently  in  subsequent  months — they 
carried  sword  and  pistol  with  them  to  the  hill  where  they  sang 
their  psalms  and  presented  their  prayers  and  hearkened  to  the 
Evangel  of  Christ.  We  cannot  blame  them  for  a  precaution  to 
which  they  were  forced  in  self-defence,  even  if  this  conjunction 
of  the  weapons  of  a  carnal  warfare  with  "  the  melodies  of  the 
everlasting  chime "  seems  in  some  degree  incongruous.  In 
desperate  times  the  men  are  guiltless  who  resort  to  desperate 
measures. 

But  more  remarkable  and  more  beautiful  than  the  ordinary 
conventicle  was  a  Communion  in  the  fields.  John  Blackader 
will  describe  to  us  one  of  these,  which  he,  in  company  with 
"  Mr.  Welsh  and  Mr.  Riddell,"  superintended  and  enjoyed  at 
East  Nisbet  in  the  Border  country.  After  relating  what 
means  were  adopted  to  shield  from  interruption  and  alarm 
those  whose  rendezvous,  however  fit  it  might  be,  was  "  by  the 
lions'  dens  and  the  mountains  of  leopards,"  he  goes  on  with  his 
tale: 

"  We  entered  on  the  administration  of  the  holy  ordinance, 
committing  it  and  ourselves  to  the  invisible  protection  of  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  in  whose  name  we  were  met  together.  The 
place  where  we  convened  was  every  way  commodious,  and 
seemed  to  have  been  formed  on  purpose.  It  was  a  green  and 
pleasant  haugh,  fast  by  the  waterside.  On  either  hand,  there 
was  a  spacious  brae,  in  form  of  a  half  round,  covered  with 
delightful  pasture,  and  rising  with  a  gentle  slope  to  a  goodly 
height.  Above  us  was  the  clear  blue  sky,  for  it  was  a  sweet 
and  calm  Sabbath  morning,  promising  to  be  indeed  one  of  the 
days  of  the  Son  of  Man.  The  Communion  tables  were  spread 
on  the  green  by  the  water,  and  around  them  the  people  had 
arranged  themselves  in  decent  order.  But  the  far  greater 
multitude  sat  on  the  brae  face,  which  was  crowded  from  top  to 
bottom. 

"  Each  day,  at  the  congregation's  dismissing,  the  ministers 
with  their  guards,  and  as  many  of  the  people  as  could,  retired 
to  their  quarters  in  three  several  country  towns,  where  they 
might  be  provided  with  necessaries.     The  horsemen  drew  up 


i8o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

in  a  body,  and  then  marched  in  goodly  array  behind  the  people, 
until  all  were  safely  lodged.  In  the  morning,  when  they 
returned,  the  horsemen  accompanied  them.  All  the  three 
parties  met  a  mile  from  the  spot,  and  marched  in  a  full  body 
to  the  consecrated  ground.  The  congregation  being  fairly 
settled,  "the  guardsmen  took  their  stations  as  formerly.  They 
secured  the  peace  and  quiet  of  the  audience ;  for  from 
Saturday  morning,  when  the  work  began,  until  Monday 
afternoon,  we  suffered  not  the  least  affront  or  molestation  from 
enemies :  which  appeared  wonderful.  The  whole  was  closed 
in  as  orderly  a  way  as  it  had  been  in  the  time  of  Scotland's 
brightest  noon.  And,  truly,  the  spectacle  of  so  many  grave, 
composed,  and  devout  faces  must  have  struck  the  adversaries 
with  awe,  and  been  more  formidable  than  any  outward  ability 
of  fierce  looks  and  warlike  array.  We  desired  not  the 
countenance  of  earthly  kings ;  there  was  a  spiritual  and  divine 
Majesty  shining  on  the  work.  Amidst  the  lonely  mountains 
we  remembered  the  words  of  our  Lord,  that  true  worship  was 
not  peculiar  to  Jerusalem  or  Samaria — that  the  beauty  of 
holiness  consisted  not  in  material  temples.  We  remembered 
the  Ark  of  the  Israelites,  which  had  sojourned  for  years  in  the 
desert,  with  no  dwelling  but  the  tabernacle  of  the  plain.  We 
thought  of  Abraham  and  the  ancient  patriarchs,  who  laid 
their  victims  on  the  rocks  for  an  altar,  and  burned  sweet  incense 
under  the  shade  of  the  green  tree. 

"The  ordinance  of  the  Last  Supper  was  signally  backed 
with  refreshing  influence  from  above.  Few  such  days  were 
seen  in  the  desolate  Church  of  Scotland,  and  few  will  ever 
witness  the  like.  There  was  a  rich  effusion  of  the  Spirit  shed 
abroad  in  many ;  their  souls  breathed  in  a  diviner  element, 
and  burned  upwards  as  with  the  fire  of  a  pure  and  holy 
devotion.  The  ministers  were  visibly  assisted  to  speak  home 
to  the  conscience  of  the  hearers ;  they  who  witnessed  declared, 
they  carried  more  like  ambassadors  from  the  court  of  heaven 
than  men  cast  in  earthly  mould.  The  tables  were  served  by 
some  gentlemen  and  persons  of  the  gravest  deportment.  The 
communicants  entered  at  one  end,  and  retired  at  the  other,  a 
way  being  kept  clear  to  take  their  seats  again  on  the  hillside. 


A  FIELD  PREACHER  i8i 

Solemn  it  was  and  edifying,  to  see  the  composure  of  all 
present ;  and  it  was  pleasant,  as  the  night  fell,  to  hear  their 
melody  swelling  in  full  unison  along  the  hill,  the  whole 
congregation  joining  with  one  accord.  There  were  two  long 
tables,  and  one  short — across  the  head — with  seats  on  each 
side.  About  a  hundred  sat  at  every  table.  There  were 
sixteen  tables  in  all,  so  that  about  three  thousand  two  hundred 
communicated  that  day." 

It  is  a  long  quotation ;  but  it  portrays  a  noble  scene  in 
noble  words.  The  preacher,  who  could  delineate  the  solemnity 
so  fittingly,  never  halted  in  his  missionary  journeys  ;  for  some 
fifteen  years,  except  when  illness  chained  him  to  his  house, 
he  expounded  the  counsel  of  God.  We  meet  him  and  his 
pony  in  Fifeshire,  in  the  Lothians,  in  Lanarkshire,  in  Carrick 
and  Cunningham,  in  Annandale,  among  the  hills  of  Galloway. 
Once  he  halts  to  baptise  a  poor  man's  child  by  the  moss-side, 
and  a  crowd  collects,  and,  as  they  appear  to  be  poor  innocents, 
who  rarely  hear  his  sort  of  preaching,  he  accompanies  the 
ceremony  with  a  short  lecture.  Once,  in  his  old  parish  of 
Troqueer,  he  intends  holding  the  meeting  on  a  knoll  amongst 
the  trees ;  but  the  day  is  windy,  and  there  is  such  commotion 
of  leaves  and  branches  that  the  people  cannot  hear,  and  so  they 
go  to  a  green  and  open  expanse  near  the  Laird  of  Dalscarth's 
house.  Once,  at  Dunscore,  it  is  a  time  of  deep  snow ;  and 
among  the  white  snow  a  chair  is  set  for  the  minister ;  and  the 
men  and  women  pull  bunches  of  heather,  and  sit  hearkening 
on  the  moor.  There  are  a  hundred  exhilarating  incidents 
which  cluster  round  the  name  of  John  Blackader.  He  missed 
no  fruitful  chance  that  came  to  him ;  until,  early  on  an  April 
morning  in  1681,  his  enemies  seized  him  in  Edinburgh,  and 
sent  him  to  close  his  toiling  and  suffering  and  rejoicing  days 
in  the  prison  on  the  Bass  Kock. 

His  fathers  fought  for  the  Red  Eose,  and  won  it  for  their 
crest.  But  surely  his  own  crest  was  not  the  Red  Rose  so  much 
as  the  White — the  White  Rose  not,  indeed,  of  York,  but  of 
Heaven.  We  recollect  Martin  Luther's  words :  "  I  took  for 
the  symbol  of  my  theology  a  seal  on  which  I  had  engraven  a 
Cross,  with  a  Heart  in   its  centre.     The   Cross   is   black,  to 


i82  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

indicate  the  sorrows,  even  unto  death,  through  which  the 
Christian  must  pass.  But  the  Heart  preserves  its  natural 
colour,  for  the  Cross  does  not  extinguish  nature — it  does  not 
kill  but  give  life.  The  Heart  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  White 
Kose,  which  signifies  the  joy,  peace,  and  consolation  that 
faith  b-rino;s.  But  the  Eose  is  white  and  not  Eed,  because 
it  is  not  the  joy  and  peace  of  the  world  but  that  of 
spirits." 

This  was  the  flower,  supernal  and  undying,  which  John 
Blackader  carried  on  his  shield  and  in  his  soul. 


CHAPTER   XVL     • 

'       HE  SEEMED  IN  A  PERPETUAL  MEDITATION. 

TWEEDDALE  and  Kincardine  and  Sir  Robert  Moray  had 
all  helped  to  usher  in  the  broken  sunlight  of  the  Blink. 
But  there  was  another  agent  whose  part  must  not  be  forgotten. 
He  was  not  a  statesman  but  a  churchman,  one  of  those 
churchmen  who  are  innocent  of  craft,  and  round  whose  brows 
the  halo  of  heavenliness  shines.  Kobert  Leighton's  name  is 
already  familiar,  as  one  of  the  four  bishops  consecrated  at  West- 
minster in  the  last  days  of  1661.  Being  always  most  humble — 
did  he  not  sign  himself  "  one  of  the  unworthiest  caitiffs  in 
the  world "  ? — he  had  selected  the  diocese  of  Dunblane,  the 
smallest  and  quietest  of  the  four.  But  about  1670,  when 
Alexander  Burnet  had  been  compelled  to  resign  his  high 
position  in  Glasgow,  it  seemed  desirable  that  Leighton  should 
be  sent  to  the  west.  The  Covenanters  had  their  head- 
quarters there,  and  there  the  most  vigorous  spiritual  life  was 
found ;  and  who  was  likelier  to  wield  an  effective  influence  in 
these  surroundings  than  the  Episcopalian  leader  who  was  a 
scholar  and  a  gentleman  and  a  saint  ?  This  was  the  time,  too, 
of  Archbishop  Leighton's  Accommodation,  as  the  peace-making 
and  amiable  scheme  was  called. 

He  had  ever  been  a  lover  of  concord,  and  a  friend  at  heart 
to  the  Presbyterians  whom  he  had  left.  In  Dunblane  he  had 
preserved  the  old  machinery  of  the  Kirk,  and  had  opposed 
innovations  in  ritual.  He  would  not  permit  any  to  address 
him  as  "  My  Lord "  ;  no  right  reverend  father  was  he,  but  a 
brother  perpetually  aware  of  his  shortcomings.  He  resembled 
one  of  John  Knox's  Superintendents  rather  than  a  diocesan 

ruler  and  prince.     The  same  conciliatory  temper  governed  him 

183 


i84  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

in  Glasgow.  No  doubt,  the  politicians  urged  him  to  draw 
together  the  sundered  factions ;  but  he  needed  no  urging :  this 
was  the  goal  of  all  his  prayer  and  labour.  The  Accommoda- 
tion simply  gave  embodiment  to  the  yearnings  of  its  author's 
charitable  spirit.  It  proposed  that  the  Church  courts  of 
former  days  should  be  retained,  and  that  in  them  bishops  and 
ministers  should  act  in  concert,  the  bishops  having  no  dignity 
beyond  that  of  constant  presidents  or  moderators;  that  the 
Covenanting  members  should  have  liberty  to  declare  that 
they  tolerated  the  bishop  merely  for  peace's  sake;  that 
ordinations  should  not  take  place  without  the  concurrence  of 
the  Presbytery ;  that,  in  every  third  year,  provincial  Synods 
should  be  held,  before  which  the  bishops  might  be  arraigned 
and  censured,  if  their  administration  had  been  negligent  or 
arrogant  or  unworthy.  That  these  Synods,  with  the  spear  of 
Ithuriel  in  their  hands,  were  not  unnecessary  was  Leighton's 
persuasion ;  he  knew  that  some  of  his  brethren  had  little  title 
to  respect.  "  The  truth  is,"  he  wrote  to  Lauderdale,  "  I  am 
greatly  ashamed  that  wee  have  occasioned  so  much  trouble,  and 
done  so  litle  or  no  good,  now  these  seven  or  eight  years  since 
your  restitution  of  our  order,  and  after  so  many  favours  heapt 
upon  us  by  His  Majesty's  Royal  goodnesse.  .  .  .  Hee  that  can 
sit  down  content  with  honour  and  revenue  without  doing  good, 
especially  in  so  sacred  a  function,  hath,  I  think,  a  low  and 
servile  soul."  The  Accommodation  was  a  genuine  effort  to 
reconcile  those  who  were  drifting  more  and  more  apart. 

But  it  failed.  It  could  only  fail,  although  an  angel  from 
heaven  preached  its  value.  Conferences  were  held  with  the 
ministers,  whom  Leighton  was  desirous  to  gain.  But  the 
ministers  would  have  none  of  his  charming.  In  the  constant 
moderatorship  they  saw  the  embryo  of  all  Prelacy.  And  they 
remembered  that  his  colleagues  on  the  Episcopal  bench  were 
wholly  different  from  the  dove-like  man  who  brought  the  olive- 
branch  ;  they  knew  that  most  of  them  disapproved  of  the 
overtures  of  friendship.  "  No,"  they  said,  "  we  cannot  receive 
your  Accommodation.  It  is  a  cloak  under  which  tyranny  will 
pursue  its  way  unsuspected.  It  is  a  drug  to  bewitch  our  own 
vigilance  into  sleep."     Even  yet  Leighton  did  not  lose  hope. 


KOBEET  LEIGHTON. 
The  traditional  likeness,  the  accuracy  of  ivhich  is  not  indisputable. 


HE  SEEMED  IN  A  PERPETUAL  MEDITATION     185 

He  chose  six  of  the  best  preachers  among  his  clergy,  and  sent 
them  to  the  recalcitrant  parishes — "  the  Bishop's  Evangelists  " 
men  dubbed  them.  But  either  the  people  refused  to  hear 
them,  or  they  showed  that  they  understood  their  Bibles  too 
well  to  be  moved  by  their  arguments.  The  peacemaker  had 
been  defeated,  and  his  heart  was  sadder  than  ever ;  he  spoke  of 
it  as  filled  with  the  "  peevish  humors  of  a  raelancholy  monk." 
Less  and  less  had  he  any  faith  in  his  fellow-prelates.  "  I 
beleev,"  he  said,  "  'twere  litle  damage  either  to  Church  or 
State,  possibly  some  advantage  to  both,  if  wee  should  all 
retire."  In  a  few  years,  worn  out  by  what  he  described 
pathetically  as  "a  drunken  scuffle  in  the  dark,"  he  gave  up 
his  own  archbishopric,  and  withdrew  to  spend  "  the  remnant 
of  his  time  in  a  private  and  retired  life."  The  strife  of 
tongues  was  abhorrent  to  Eobert  Leighton. 

"  Over  all  that  noble  face  lay  somewhat  of  soft  pensiveness  " ; 
and  let  us  look  into  its  gracious  features.  Bishop  Burnet,  who 
does  not  usually  pierce  far  beneath  the  surface,  kindles  into 
the  eloquence  of  the  heart  when  Leighton  is  his  theme.  "  He 
seemed  to  have  the  lowest  thoughts  of  himself  possible,  and 
to  desire  that  all  other  persons  should  think  as  meanly  of  him 
as  he  did  himself."  "  He  had  so  subdued  the  natural  heat  of 
his  temper  that,  in  a  great  variety  of  accidents,  and  in  a 
course  of  twenty-two  years'  intimate  conversation  with  him, 
I  never  observed  the  least  sign  of  passion,  but  upon  one  single 
occasion."  "  He  brought  himself  into  so  composed  a  gravity, 
that  I  never  saw  him  laugh,  and  but  seldom  smile."  "  And 
he  kept  himself  in  such  a  constant  recollection,  that  I  do  not 
remember  that  ever  I  heard  him  say  one  idle  word."  "  His 
thoughts  were  lively,  oft  out  of  the  way  and  surprising,  yet 
just  and  genuine.  And  he  had  laid  together  in  his  memory 
the  greatest  treasure  of  the  best  and  wisest  of  all  the  ancient 
sayings  of  the  heathens  as  well  as  Christians,  that  I  have 
known  any  man  master  of ;  and  he  used  them  in  the  aptest 
manner  possible."  Thus  the  panegyric  passes  from  point  to 
point,  doing  honour  to  him  who  penned  its  enthusiastic 
sentences,  but  investing  with  yet  higher  glories  him  how 
could  inspire  a  reverence  so  deep. 


i86  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

In  Leighton's  soul  the  master-power  was  the  hunger  for 
holiness.  "Eeverend  brethren,"  he  wrote  to  his  curates  in 
Dunblane,  "  truly  I  think  it  were  our  best  and  wisest  reiiec- 
tion,  upon  the  many  difficulties  and  discouragements  without 
us,  to  be  driven  t'o  live  more  within ;  as  they  observe  of  the 
bees  that,  when  it  is  foul  weather  outside,  they  are  busy  in 
their  hives.  If  the  power  of  external  discipline  be  enervated 
in  our  hands,  yet  who  can  hinder  us  to  try  and  judge  and 
censure  ourselves,  and  to  purge  the  inner  temples,  our  own 
hearts,  with  the  more  severity  and  exactness  ?  And,  if  we  be 
dashed  and  bespattered  with  reproaches  abroad,  to  study  to  be 
the  cleaner  at  home  ? "  A  passage  like  this  discloses  at  once 
his  defects  and  his  grandeurs.  It  was  his  weakness  that,  in 
the  confusions  of  the  time,  he  felt  himself  paralysed ;  he  could 
wrestle  with  God  in  his  chamber,  but  not  with  men  on  the  fierce- 
fought  battlefield  ;  the  summons  to  energise  and  die  in  the  con- 
flict was  too  hard  a  counsel  for  his  neutral  heart.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  have  not  been  many  who,  with  Leighton's 
simplicity  and  continuousness,  beheld  the  Father's  face. 
The  little  notes,  axioms  and  quotations  and  prayers,  which 
he  jotted  on  the  margins  of  his  books,  are  proofs  that  he 
never  wandered  more  than  a  mile  or  two  from  his  first 
Love.  Now  it  is :  Suavissima  vita  est  quotidic  sentire  se  fieri 
meliorem,  "  This  is  the  sweetest  life,  to  feel  that  daily  I  am 
becoming  a  better  man."  And  now :  Leve  est  sua  relinquere, 
seipsum  reli7iquere  f/ravissimum,  "  It  is  easy  to  leave  one's  things, 
most  arduous  to  leave  oneself."  And  again :  Qui  veut  vivre 
apres  la  mort,  faut  qu'il  meure  devant  la  mort,  "  Who  wishes 
to  live  after  death  must  die  before  death  comes."  Here 
we  have  all  Professor  James's  visible  and  practical  marks  of 
saintliness  :  the  asceticism,  which  prompts  to  self-immolation  ; 
the  strength,  which  lifts  the  man  above  personal  motives ; 
the  purity,  which  keeps  character  and  conduct  unspotted ; 
and  the  charity,  which  has  shifted  the  emotional  centre  away 
from  self  to  others. 

That  Eobert  Leighton  was  an  expert  in  the  science  and 
art  of  holiness  may  be  learned  from  the  influence  wielded  by 
his  writings.     It  would   be   vain   to   seek  to   enumerate  the 


HE  SEEMED  IN  A  PERPETUAL  MEDITATION     187 

readers,  whom  his  books  have  led  into  those  ivory  palaces  which 
are  fragrant  with  odours  of  aloes  and  myrrh  and  cassia.     The 
dialect  of  absolute  sincerity  is  heard  in  every  sentence.     He 
praises  Christ,  because  the  King  has  bound  his  own  soul  with 
unbreakable  fetters.     He  bids  us  long  for  heaven,  because  all 
his  nature  is  domiciled  within  it.     He  commands  us  to  forget 
and  forgive,  and  we  are  left  in  no  dubiety  about  the  thorough- 
ness with  which  he  forgives  and  forgets.     If  we  are  not  per- 
mitted to  think  of  him  as  having  already  surmounted  the  white 
and  rosy  Alps,  we  see  him  pressing  to  them  with  a  patience 
which  never  flags.     It  was  his  meat  and  drink,  his  business 
and  pleasure,  to  do  the  will  of  God ;  and  he  awakens  in  men 
and  women  who  hearken  to  him  the  same  absorbing  purpose. 
One   instance   of   his   success   will   be   remembered.     Henry 
Martyn   burned   out  for   God   with  the  intenseness  and   the 
rapid   blaze   of   phosphorus.     Each   prayer   of   his  soul   was, 
what  he  said  prayer  ought  ever  to  be,  a  visit  to  the  invisible 
world.     During  the   six  brief   years   of   his  residence  in  the 
East,   he  was   an   unresting   missionary,  a   translator   of   the 
Bible,   a   follower   of    Christ    without   rebuke.     When,  after 
his   death,   his    portrait   was    sent   to    Charles    Simeon,   the 
preacher  declared  that,  whenever   he  saw  it,  it  said  to  him, 
"  Be  in  earnest !    Don't   trifle  !    Don't  trifle  ! "     And,  next  to 
God,  there  were   two   teachers  who  moulded  Henry  Martyn 
into  his  spiritual  greatness.     They  were  David  Brainerd  and 
Archbishop   Leighton,     To  Leighton's   Rules  and  Instructions 
for  Devout  Exercises,  he  confessed  that  he  owed  a  debt  which 
he  could  neither   compute  nor  repay.     "We  may  comprehend 
the   older   man's   consecration,   when   we   stand  afar  off  and 
marvel  at  that  of  his  son  in  the  faith. 

But  there  is  a  vexatious  mystery  in  Leighton's  story.  He 
was  a  traitor  to  the  Church  which  for  years  he  had  been 
content  to  serve.  His  father  was  the  unswerving  Puritan 
on  whom  the  Star  Chamber  inflicted  horrors,  the  bare 
recital  of  which  makes  us  shiver;  we  might  have  imagined 
that  filial  loyalty  would  prevent  him  from  conforming  to 
Episcopacy.  He  had  himself  been  minister  for  eleven 
summers  of  the  Kirk  of  Newbattle ;  and,  if  he  preferred  to 


i88  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

preach  to  eternity  rather  than  to  the  times,  he  swore  the 
Covenant  with  his  own  lips,  and  he  imposed  it  on  his  people. 
When  the  Midlothian  parish  was  left,  he  had  been  Presby- 
terian Principal  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  prelecting 
once  a  week  to  the  students  in  Latin,  and  imparting  as  much 
spiritual .  blessing  as  intellectual  stimulus.  Then,  with  the 
Kestoration,  he  turned  his  back  on  the  traditions  bequeathed 
to  him  by  his  parent,  on  the  Kirk  whose  spokesman  he  had 
been,  on  the  Leagues  and  Covenants  he  had  vowed  to  defend. 
He  was  in  some  respects  more  pliable  than  James  Sharp, 
although  he  could  have  no  intimacy  with  a  man  so  worldly 
and  sordid.  For,  when  Sharp  was  disposed  to  stand  out 
against  the  ceremony  of  ordination  as  a  deacon  and  a  priest, 
Leighton  gave  way,  salving  conscience  with  the  verbal  protest 
that,  if  he  accepted  such  prelatic  sanctions,  the  orders  he 
had  formerly  received  from  his  fellow-presbyters  were  not 
thereby  annulled.  It  is  a  backsliding  which  puzzles  us — a 
disappointment  to  rouse  many  regrets. 

We  have  found  him  kindly  to  the  last  towards  the 
comrades  whom  he  had  forsaken ;  perhaps,  by  and  by,  there 
were  compunctions  in  his  soul  that  he  had  severed  his  path 
from  theirs.  But  why  did  he  take  the  false  turning  ?  Why, 
as  the  poet  of  The  Bishops  Walk  states  the  question,  "  should 
a  servant  of  God  range  himself  on  the  devil's  side,  in  the  great 
conflict  of  the  age  ?  "  We  cannot  unriddle  the  problem  ;  but 
some  of  his  reasons  we  may  surmise.  There  was  the  sinister 
influence  of  his  brother,  Sir  Ellis  Leighton,  the  Mephistopheles 
in  his  Hfe-drama — Sir  Ellis,  the  courtier,  the  pervert  to 
Eoman  Catholicism,  the  schemer  who  wished  to  promote  his 
private  ends  when  he  introduced  his  relative  to  the  King. 
There  was  in  Leighton  himself  an  inclination  towards  the  out- 
ward beauty  of  Episcopalian  worship — its  liturgy,  its  ornate 
service,  its  seemliness.  Deeper  still  was  his  recoil  from  the 
din  of  ecclesiastical  strife,  his  craving  for  a  place  of  rest  and 
room.  Probably,  too,  he  had  the  hope,  a  hope  which  those 
rugged  Presbyters  were  to  shatter,  that  he  might  prove  a 
reconciler,  persuading  the  contending  parties  into  goodwill. 
Then,  also,  being  high-strung   and   cultured,  he  was  apt  to 


HE  SEEMED  IN  A  PERPETUAL  MEDITATION     189 

distrust  the  common  people,  and  to  look  askance  on  their 
activity  in  the  affairs  of  the  Kirk;  he  had  none  of  Ruther- 
furd's  brave  confidence  in  the  democracy.  Putting  these 
things  together,  we  discern  some  of  the  causes  for  conduct 
which,  viewed  from  the  vantage-ground  of  the  later  day,  seems 
mistaken  and  wrong. 

Robert  Leighton  realised  soon  that,  in  a  Church  which 
James  Sharp  ruled,  he  could  have  no  congenial  home.  It  is 
related  that,  on  the  journey  from  London,  at  Morpeth,  he  left 
the  coach  which  was  carrying  the  four  prelates  to  Edinburgh, 
Already  he  was  wearied  of  the  earthliness  and  the  un- 
spirituality  of  his  comrades,  and  he  had  no  desire  for  the 
pomps  which  they  anticipated  with  childish  avidity.  The 
breach  widened  with  the  years,  until,  in  1674,  he  laid  down 
all  his  offices,  and  went  away  to  live  in  the  manor-house 
of  Broadhurst,  in  Sussex,  the  dwelling  of  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Lightmaker,  and  of  her  son  Edward.  It  was  a  hostelry  on 
the  road  to  Jerusalem;  but  Jerusalem  itself  was  the  magnet 
which  allured  his  eyes  and  his  spirit.  "  Therefore  Good-night 
is  all  I  add,"  he  said  at  the  ending  of  a  letter ;  "  for,  whatso- 
ever hour  it  comes  to  your  hand,  I  believe  you  are  as  sensible 
as  I  that  it  is  still  night ;  but  the  comfort  is,  it  draws  nigh 
towards  that  bright  morning  that  shall  make  amends."  Years 
before  he  retired  to  Broadhurst,  death  had  entered  the 
mansion  in  spite  of  the  struggles  of  love  to  keep  him  out,  and 
had  called  away  a  child  altogether  dear.  Nothing  could  be 
tenderer  than  his  words  of  solace  to  his  brother-in-law,  words 
which  uttered  the  home-sickness  in  his  own  breast.  "  Indeed 
it  was  a  sharp  stroke  of  a  pen  that  told  me  your  little  Johnny 
was  dead.  Sweet  thing,  and  is  he  so  quickly  laid  to  sleep  ? 
Happy  he !  Though  we  shall  have  no  more  the  pleasure  of 
his  lisping  and  laughing,  he  shall  have  no  more  the  pain  of 
crying,  nor  of  being  sick,  nor  of  dying,  and  hath  wholly 
escaped  the  trouble  of  schooling  and  all  the  sufferings  of 
boys,  and  the  riper  and  deeper  griefs  of  upper  years,  this 
poor  life  being  all  along  nothing  but  a  linked  chain  of  many 
sorrows  and  of  many  deaths.  Tell  my  dear  sister  she  is  now 
so  much  more  akin  to  the  other  world,  and  this  will  quickly 


igo  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

be  past  to  us  all.  John  is  but  gone  an  hour  or  two  sooner  to 
bed  as  children  used  to  do,  and  we  are  undressing  to  follow." 
There  and  not  here,  Leighton  confessed,  is  the  morning  with- 
out clouds,  and  the  perfect  day,  and  the  life  which  is  life 
indeed ;  and  our  Father  unclothes  us  that  he  may  deck  body 
and  brain  with  the  better  garment  of  everlastingness. 

In  June  1684,  he  was  persuaded  to  come  to  London  on 
an  errand  of  mercy.  Lord  Perth,  as  virulent  a  persecutor  as 
any  of  the  tribe,  had  arrived  in  the  capital,  to  be  invested 
with  the  dignity  of  Chancellor  of  Scotland,  and,  being  troubled 
in  mind,  had  spoken  of  his  longing  for  an  interview  with  one 
well  fitted  to  communicate  the  consolations  of  God.  Bishop 
Burnet  arranged  the  meeting.  "  I  was  amazed,"  he  writes, 
"  to  see  the  angelic  man  look  so  fresh  that  age  seemed  as  it 
might  stand  still  with  him.  His  hair  was  still  black,  and  all 
his  motions  were  lively.  He  had  the  same  quickness  of 
thought  and  strength  of  memory,  but,  above  all,  the  same 
heat  and  life  of  devotion."  But,  when  his  friend  and  disciple 
spoke  of  his  own  great  joy  at  these  appearances  of  unabated 
health,  he  was  warned  not  to  build  his  hopes  on  so  un- 
substantial a  foundation.  "  He  told  me  he  was  near  his  end 
for  all  that,  and  his  work  and  journey  both  were  now  almost 
done."  The  forecast  was  strangely  accurate.  Pleurisy  set  in 
that  very  night,  and  within  two  days  Leighton  was  dead.  He 
had  been  accustomed  to  say  that,  if  he  could  have  the  choosing 
of  a  place  in  which  to  die,  he  should  select  an  inn,  for  that 
seemed  most  appropriate  to  a  wayfarer  hastening  to  his  true 
home.  God  allowed  the  predilection  to  be  fulfilled.  In  the 
Bell  Inn,  in  Warwick  Lane,  the  pilgrim  parted  with  staff 
and  wallet  and  sandals,  and  awoke  from  the  dreams  of  the 
present  within  the  City  to  whose  light  and  love  he  had  panted 
for  many  a  year. 

"When  there  was  any  overture  or  hope  of  peace" — few 
will  forget  the  sentences  in  which  Lord  Clarendon  depicts 
Lucius  Gary,  the  young  Viscount  Falkland — "he  would  be 
more  erect  and  vigorous,  and  exceedingly  solicitous  to  press 
anything  which  he  thought  might  promote  it;  and,  sitting 
among  his  friends,  often  after  a  deep  silence  and  frequent  sighs 


HE  SEEMED  IN  A  PERPETUAL  MEDITATION     191 

would,  with  a  shrill  and  sad  accent,  ingeminate  the  word.  Peace, 
Peace ;  and  would  passionately  protest  that  the  very  agony  of 
the  war,  and  the  view  of  the  calamities  and  desolation  the 
kingdom  did  and  must  endure,  took  his  sleep  from  him  and 
would  shortly  break  his  heart."  The  enviable  tribute  is  as 
applicable  to  Eobert  Leighton  as  to  the  good  knight  who  fell 
at  Newbury.  Peace  !  Peace  !  was  the  wor4  he  ingeminated  as 
he  looked  across  the  distractions  of  Church  and  land,  and  none 
was  more  solicitous  to  press  what  might  promote  it :  he  carried 
concession  to  the  very  verge  of  surrender.  He  was  baffled  in 
his  enterprise,  and  he  erred  in  his  public  career.  But,  when 
we  gaze  backward  on  those  evil  times,  we  see  him  moving 
through  them  "  attired  in  brightness  like  a  man  inspired." 


CHAPTER   XVIL 

SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST. 

ROBERT  WODEOW  tells  a  story  which  has  many  a  time 
been  filched  from  his  entertaining  pages.    Let  us  read  it 
again  in  his  own  words :  "  I  hear  there  was  a  certain  merchant 
came  from  London  to  Saint  Andrews  in  Fife,  where  he  heard 
first  the  great  and  worthy  Mr.  Blair  preach ;  next  he  heard 
the  great  Eutherfurd  preach.     Next  Lord's  day  he  came  to 
Irvine,  and  heard  Mr.  Dickson  preach.     When  he  came  back 
to  London,  his  friends   asked  him   what  news  he   had  from 
Scotland.     He  answered,  he  had  very  great  and  good  news  to 
tell  them.     They  wondered  much  what  they  could  be,  for  he 
was  before  that   time  a  man  altogether  a   stranger   to   true 
religion.     He  told   them  he  heard  one  Mr.   Blair  preach  at 
Saint  Andrews ;  and,  describing  his  features  and  the  stature  of 
his  body,  he  said,  '  That  man  showed  me  the  majesty  of  God ' 
— which   was   Mr.   Eobert    Blair's   peculiar    talent.      '  Then,' 
added  he, '  I  afterwards  heard  a  little  fair  man  preach ' — Mr. 
Eutherfurd — 'and    that    man   showed   me   the    loveliness   of 
Christ.     Then  I  came  and  heard  at   Irvine  a  well-favoured 
proper  old  man,  with  a  long  beard ' — which  was  famous  Mr. 
Dickson — 'and  that  man  showed  me  all  my  heart;'  for  he 
was  most  famed  of  any  man  of  his  time  to   speak  to  cases 
of  conscience.      And  they   say  that  Englishman  became  an 
excellent   Christian.     The   whole   General   Assembly   of    the 
Church  of  Scotland  could  not  have  given  a  better  character 
of  these  three  men  than  that  man  gave." 

And  perhaps  we  could  not  give  a  better  character  of  the 
preaching  of  the  Covenanters,  first  and  last,  than  by  contenting 
ourselves   with    the   repetition   of    Wodrow's   anecdote.     The 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  193 

majesty  of  God,  the  loveliness  of  Christ,  the  sins  and  sorrows 
of  the  human  heart :  these  were  the  central  and  commanding 
themes  unfolded  by  the  ministers  of  the  Kirk  in  the  seventeenth 
century.  Whether  they  lived  and  died  and  got  away  home 
to  their  Master's  presence  during  the  happier  years  of 
Cromwell's  ascendency,  or  were  driven  from  their  parishes 
after  King  Charles  returned  to  change  the  face  of  everything, 
or  must  be  counted  amongst  the  hunted  and  indomitable 
Hillmen  of  the  Killing  Time,  their  sermons  express  a  wonder- 
ing and  worshipful  adoration  of  the  Lord  who  is  high  and 
lifted  up,  and  mount  into  perpetual  praise  of  the  beauty  and 
sufficiency  of  the  Saviour,  and  bewail  the  poverty  and  condemn 
the  disobedience  of  the  soul  of  man.  And  he  who  has  such 
subjects,  and  can  speak  of  them  with  lips  which  God  Himself 
has  opened,  now  sounding  a  blast  of  warning,  and  then  appeal- 
ing with  urgency  and  tenderness  to  the  conscience  of  his 
hearers,  and  by  and  by  soaring  into  strains  of  reverent  thanks- 
giving and  delighted  rapture — surely  he  scarcely  needs  any 
other  topic;  he  has  a  message  of  tremendous  moment  and 
perennial  interest  and  abundant  variety. 

But,  for  a  little,  we  may  linger  among  the  auditors  of  the 
old  preachers,  and  may  try  to  gain  a  somewhat  fuller  under- 
standing of  their  teaching.  We  must  not  expect  too  much 
from  them.  It  is  easy  to  ridicule  the  quaintnesses  of  their 
style,  a  style  of  homespun  rather  than  of  broadcloth.  They 
rise,  every  now  and  then,  into  genuine  eloquence ;  and  their 
sentences,  leaving  "  the  pains  of  prose,"  become  psalms  and 
hymns  and  spiritual  songs.  But,  even  in  their  loftiest  moods, 
all  is  unstudied,  spontaneous,  unelaborated.  As  John  Howie 
of  Lochgoin  says,  with  a  tang  of  sarcasm  in  his  remark :  "  Their 
language  was  never  designed  for  the  reflections  of  critics,  nor 
calculated  to  please  the  taste  of  those  who  affect  scholastic 
phrases  and  grammatical  oratory,  with  flights  of  fancy  and 
terms  of  art,  pronounced  in  a  South  British  accent."  Un- 
questionably there  is  nothing  of  the  Oxford  manner  about  the 
ambassadors  of  the  Covenant ;  one  cannot  rightfully  demand 
it  from  men  who  had  "  no  well-furnished  rooms  and  laro-e 
assortments   of  authors" — men    "with    little   time   to   studv 


194  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

anything,  and  ofttimes  less  to  deliver  what  they  had  pre- 
meditated, being  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  a  fierce,  cruel, 
and  bloody  enemy."  Surroundings  such  as  theirs  may  impart 
an  extraordinary  intensity  to  the  preacher's  words.  They  will 
compel  his  admonitions  and  entreaties  to  blaze  and  burn.  It 
"  reminds  us  of  rugged  heart  of  oak,  not  a  chip  of  white  wood 
left  on  it,"  Thomas  Carlyle  declares  of  an  Oliverian  letter ;  and 
the  homilies  of  the  field-preachers  are  not  undeserving  of  the 
eulogy.  But  the  environment  was  unfavourable  to  the  graces 
of  diction  and  prettinesses  of  rhetoric ;  these  are  plants  which 
refuse  to  blossom  where  the  tropical  sun  of  persecution  is 
glaring  its  hottest  overhead. 

Yet,  if  there  is  no  South  British  accent,  we  catch  many  a 
pithy  and  axiomatic  phrase ;  the  sermons  are  armouries  filled 
with  those  kentra,  sharp-pointed  goads,  which  it  was  the 
aim  of  Pericles  to  leave  rankling  in  the  hearts  of  his 
Athenian  listeners.  In  1692,  when  King  William  was  firmly 
established  on  the  throne,  and  when  there  was  toleration  alike 
for  prelate  and  presbyter,  Kandal  Taylor,  near  the  Stationers' 
Hall  in  London,  printed  without  its  author's  name  that 
scurrilous  satire  of  Eobert  Calder's,  which  is  eagerly  sought 
after  nowadays  by  the  collectors  of  rare  editions.  The  Scotch 
Presbyterian  Eloquence,  it  was  entitled,  Or,  The  Foolishness  of 
their  Teaching  Discovered  from  their  Books,  Sermons,  and  Prayers. 
It  is  the  purpose  of  the  vicious  pamphlet,  in  which  the  reader 
has,  packed  into  the  space  of  one  hundred  and  sixteen  pages, 
the  amplest  quantity  of  mocking  laughter  and  spiteful  venom, 
to  discredit  in  all  possible  ways  the  ministers  of  the  Kirk — 
that  "  Proud,  Sour,  Inconversable  Tribe,  looking  perfectly  like 
the  Pharisees,  having  Faces  like  their  horrid  Decree  of  Eepro- 
bation."  Of  course,  this  Lucian  and  Juvenal  of  the  Covenanters 
derides  unsparingly  the  homely  nature  of  their  public  speech. 
We  may  believe  that  many  of  his  instances  are  purely 
mythical;  but,  no  doubt,  there  is  a  proportion  authentic 
enough.  Yet  one  does  not  find  that  they  are  so  excessively 
amusing  and  so  barbarously  uncouth.  The  illustrations  are 
chosen  from  among  the  "  familiar  matters  of  to-day " ;  but 
wlien  the   speaker  who  desires  some  floweret  of  imagery  to 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  195 

brighten  his  argument  is  given  the  opportunity  ol'  selection 
between  the  daisy  and  the  clematis,  does  he  not,  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten,  prove  his  wisdom  by  preferring  the  daisy  ?  So, 
when  Mr.  Wedderburn,  preaching  in  Irvine,  says,  "  Lord,  we 
have  overfoul  feet  to  come  so  far  ben  as  heaven  ;  but  yet  as 
broken  a  ship  has  come  to  land,"  we  acknowledge  the  bitter 
truth  of  the  condemning  simile,  and  we  are  thankful  for 
the  consolation  of  the  comforting  one.  Or  when  Samuel 
Eutherfurd,  speaking  in  the  Border  town  near  which  he  was 
born,  cries  in  sorrow,  "  These  years  the  grass  is  grown  long 
betwixt  Jedburgh  and  heaven,"  it  is  probable  that  other 
obstructed  thoroughfares  will  forthwith  present  themselves 
to  our  minds.  Once,  in  the  Tron  Church  of  Edinburgh,  writes 
this  scourge  of  the  Presbyterians,  Henry  Erskine,  the  father 
of  Ebenezer  and  Kalph,  took  for  his  text  the  words,  Cry  aloud, 
and  spare  not.  He  told  the  people  that  there  were  three  sorts 
of  cries :  that  of  the  mouth ;  that  of  the  feet,  as  when  it  is 
said,  /  will  run  the  way  of  Thy  commandments ;  and  that  of 
the  eye,  as  in  the  assurance.  They  looked  unto  Him,  and  were 
lightened.  "  If  we  would  go  to  Heaven,"  Henry  Erskine  main- 
tained, "  we  must  not  only  cry  with  our  Mouth,  but  likewise  with 
our  Hands,  Feet,  and  Eyes."  But  the  bold  and  pictorial  figure 
creates  an  impression  which  no  commonplace  statement  of  the 
truth  could  have  made.  A  critic  has  said  of  Eaphael's 
wonderful  cartoon,  that  the  blind  Elymas,  whom  the  painter 
delineates,  is  not  merely  blind  in  the  eyes,  but  blind  in  the 
hand,  blind  in  the  foot,  and  blind  all  over.  We  shall  best 
escape  the  all-inclusive  and  fatal  blindness  by  crying  after 
that  imperious  and  persevering  and  invincible  fashion  to 
which  the  Covenanting  minister  summons  us. 

Leaving  the  preacher's  manner,  however,  let  us  turn  to  the 
substance  of  his  discourses.  It  is  but  a  hasty  survey,  superficial 
and  imperfect,  which  we  can  take  of  a  subject  both  large  and 
interesting. 

Face  to  face  with  his  congregation  the  Covenanter  was  a 
soldier.  There  was  a  militant  ring  in  his  utterances.  He 
felt  that  he  was  struggling  for  a  momentous  cause,  and  for  a 


196  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Monarch  peerless  in  His  majesty  and  grace.  The  crown-rights 
of  Jesus  Christ — that  was  his  watchword  as  he  pressed  into 
the  strife ;  and  it  is  as  good  a  watchword  as  any  which 
has  breathed  bravery  and  patience  into  the  fighter's  heart. 
It  was  the  distinctive,  pecuHar,  and  pre-eminent  glory  of 
the  Scottish  minister  of  that  bygone  century,  that  he  was 
prepared  to  a.ssert  against  all  comers  the  claims  of  his  heavenly 
Lord.  In  opposition  to  the  sacerdotalists,  eager  to  bring  the 
Chm'ch  under  the  thraldom  of  a  haughty  prelacy,  he  pealed 
forth  his  conviction  that  the  only  Ruler  in  the  spiritual  realm 
is  He  who  died  to  win  His  subjects,  and  who  lives  and  reigns 
to  perfect  their  well-being.  In  opposition  to  the  courtiers 
and  King's-men,  protesting  that  Charles  Stuart  was  supreme 
arbiter  in  all  causes  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  he  advocated  the 
sublimer  royalty  of  Jesus  over  synagogue  and  senate  alike. 
There  was  one  Bishop  of  the  soul.  One  only,  to  whom  he 
swore  allegiance.  There  was  one  Sovereign,  who  led  him  in 
triumph  behind  His  chariot,  and  under  whose  benignant  sway 
he  longed  to  see  all  his  countrymen  enrolled.  In  Whitehall 
and  in  Edinburgh  he  found  potentates  usurping  the  throne 
of  Christ,  and  imposing  their  laws  and  ceremonies  where 
His  statutes  should  be  paramount.  That  must  not  be,  the 
preacher  said.  In  things  both  national  and  sacred,  Jesus  is 
the  real  King,  governing  with  an  authority  as  undeniable  as 
that  of  David,  when  he  directed  the  affairs  of  the  chosen 
people  from  his  palace  on  Mount  Zion.  And,  in  the  sphere 
of  religion,  Jesus  is  the  solitary  King;  over  the  conscience 
of  man,  and  over  the  house  of  God,  there  can  be  no  depute 
lieadship,  of  pope  or  primate  or  magistrate.  These  were  truths 
for  which  the  Covenanter  contended  through  good  report  and 
bad — truths  on  behalf  of  which  he  was  glad  and  proud  to  die. 

Andrew  Melville  belongs  to  the  First  Reformation,  and 
not  to  the  Second ;  but  the  men  of  the  Second  were  his  sons, 
agreeing  with  his  fearless  enunciation  of  a  principle  to  whicli 
they  were  always  ready  to  witness.  What  Scot  does  not  feel 
the  blood  move  more  quickly  in  his  veins,  when  he  reads  the 
narrative  of  the  interview  in  Falkland  Palace  in  September 
1596,  at  which  Melville  used  such  manly  freedom  with  King 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  197 

James  ? — it  ranks  in  moral  impressiveness  and  dramatic  inten- 
sity with  the  greatest  scenes  in  history.  "  Mr.  Andro  brak  af 
upon  the  King  in  sa  zealus,  povverf nil,  and  unresistable  a  maner, 
that,  whowbeit  the  King  used  his  authoritie  in  maist  crabbit 
and  colerik  maner,  yit  Mr.  Andro  bure  him  down,  and  outtered 
the  Commission  as  from  the  mightie  God,  calling  the  King  but 
'  (lod's  sillie  vassall ' ;  and,  taking  him  be  the  sleive,  says  this  in 
effect,  throw  mikle  hot  reasoning  and  manie  interruptiones : 
'  Sir,  we  will  humblie  reverence  your  Majestic  alwayes,  namlic 
in  publick,  but,  sen  we  have  this  occasioun  to  be  with  your 
Majestic  in  privat,  and  the  countrey  and  Kirk  of  Chryst  is  lyk 
to  wrak,  for  nocht  telling  yow  the  treuthe,  and  gift'en  of  yow  a 
faithfull  couusall,  we  maun  discharge  our  dewtie  thairin,  or 
els  be  trators  bathe  to  Chryst  and  yow.  And  thairfor,  Sir,  as 
dyvers  tymes  befor,  sa  now  again  I  mon  tell  yow,  thair  is  twa 
Kings  and  twa  kingdomes  in  Scotland.  Thair  is  Chryst  Jesus 
the  King,  and  His  kingdome  the  Kirk,  whase  subject  King 
James  the  Saxt  is,  and  of  whase  kingdome  nocht  a  king  nor 
a  lord  nor  a  held,  bot  a  member.  And,  Sir,  when  yie  war  in 
your  swadling-cloutes,  Chryst  Jesus  rang  friely  in  this  land  in 
spyt  of  all  His  enemies.' "  Melville  had  many  descendants 
prepared  to  echo  these  words,  which  are  half  battles;  and 
they  were  not  ordained  ministers  alone,  but  shepherds  from 
the  fields,  and  struggling  shopkeepers  in  the  towns,  and  young 
girls  from  quiet  cottages  in  the  country.  Covenanting  Scotland 
shared  his  jealousy  of  any  diminution  in  the  dignities  of 
Christ, 

We  encounter  the  same  note  in  one  of  the  sermons  of 
William  Guthrie  of  Fenwick.  Speaking  in  the  August  of  1662, 
he  said :  "  Always  I  thought  it  had  been  true  loyalty  to  the 
Prince  to  have  kept  him  in  his  own  room,  and  given  him  his 
own  due ;  to  have  kept  him  subordinate  to  Christ,  and  his  laws 
subordinate  to  the  laws  of  Christ.  Fear  God  and  honour  the 
King,  I  judged  that  had  stood  well  in  all  the  world ;  but  there 
is  a  generation  now  that  has  turned  it  even  contrary.  Fear  the 
King  and  then  honour  God.  I  never  thought  that  that  was 
true  loyalty  yet.  They  make  the  rule  all  wrong  that  put  the 
King   in    tlio    first    place;  he  will    never   stand  well    there." 


igS  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Those  are  avowals  throbbing  with  magnificent  courage;  and 
they  are  as  true  as  they  are  courageous. 

It  is  when  we  listen  to  such  clear-sounding  calls  that  we 
appreciate  the  lofty  patriotism  of  the  Covenanters.  They 
would  have  been  scrupulous  in  their  fealty  to  the  Stuarts,  if 
the  Stuarts  had  allowed  them.  But  when  the  earthly  laws 
clashed  with  the  heavenly;  when  Charles's  road  deviated 
from  the  highway  of  another  King,  one  Jesus ;  they  vindicated 
at  any  cost  the  prerogatives  of  the  better  Monarch.  They 
hungered  to  see  the  country  which  was  dear  to  them  bound 
about  the  feet  of  Christ.  Sovereign,  nobleman,  merchant, 
farmer,  student,  the  lady  in  the  hall,  and  the  servant  in 
the  kitchen:  they  would  have  everyone  kneel  before  Him, 
whose  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  yet  who  must  be 
followed  through  the  world's  throngs  and  temptations  and 
vicissitudes  and  cares. 

Best  by  remembering  God,  say  some, 

"We  keep  our  high  imperial  lot ; 
Fortune,  I  fear,  hath  oftenest  come, 

When  we  forgot— when  wc  forgot : 

the  creed  of  the  modern  poet  gained  no  countenance  from 
them ;  they  clung  to  the  "  lovelier  faith  "  that,  whether  fortune 
comes  or  goes,  Jesus  Christ  is  to  be  obeyed  by  the  common- 
wealth no  less  than  by  the  individual.  At  its  core,  and  in 
its  essence,  the  Covenant  was  simply  the  linking  of  the 
nation,  fast  and  firm,  with  the  Throne  of  the  Lord  of  lords. 

But  the  Covenanting  preacher  was  Temple  -  warden  as 
well  as  soldier.  One  recalls  the  lofty  boast  of  ancient  Ephesus 
that  she  was  Neokoros  to  Artemis,  the  sweeper  of  the  iloors 
in  the  shrine  which  was  the  city's  ornament  and  glory.  The 
minister  of  the  persecuted  Kirk  was  Neokoros  too,  not  to 
Diana  but  to  Christ.  Every  stone  of  the  Temple  which  he 
served  was  the  object  of  his  fervent  affection.  The  Church 
was  often  in  his  thoughts.  Again  and  again  he  would  explain 
to  his  hearers  what  the  Church  is  in  itself,  and  who  those  are 
whom  it  embraces. 

On  two  truths  he  was  accustomed  to  lay  special  emphasis. 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  199 

One  bulked  more  largely  in  the  public  speech  of  the  Scottish 
ministry  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  Covenanting  period.  The 
other  rose  into  prominence  in  the  later  and  sadder  section  of 
the  history,  when  the  fightings  without  were  fiercer  and  the 
fears  and  debates  within  had  been  redoubled. 

The  former  is  the  inspiriting  truth  of   the  unity  of   the 
Church.     The  thinkers  and  defenders  of  the  Covenant  were 
not  narrow   in  their  sympathies.     They  were    large-hearted. 
They  took  wide  views  of  the  range  and  scope  of  that  empire 
whose  affairs  are  guided  by  Christ.     It  appeared  to  them  to 
be  a  vast  spiritual  region,  within  which  separate  congregations 
and  national  religious  bodies  were  like  so  many  townships  and 
provinces :  over  the  whole  region  one  blood-red  banner  flew, 
and   throughout   its   various   communities   the   statute-book 
of   the   same   incomparable   Kuler  was   sole   authority.     The 
Eeformed   Church   in   Scotland  had  its    own    characteristics, 
which  distinguished  it  from  the  Churches  in  France  and  the 
Netherlands  and  Germany ;  but,  for  all  that,  it  must  not  be 
conceived  as  pursuing  its  course  in  isolation,  and,  still  less,  did 
it  stand  in  opposition  to  its  neighbours ;  it  and  they  had  one 
Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism.     This  conception,  as  Dr.  James 
Walker  writes  in  his  masterly  lectures  on  Scottish  Theology, 
enabled   these  i^reachers   to   "meet   the  Church   idealism    of 
Eome,  in  many  ways  so  grand  and  attractive,  with  a  nobler 
Church  idealism.     They   could   throw  back   the  charge   that 
Protestantism  dismembers  and  breaks  up  the  Kingdom  of  God 
upon  earth,  with  the  reply  that  Protestant  unity  is  as  much  a 
reality  as  Eoman  unity,  only  that  the  centre  of  it  is  in  heaven, 
not  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber."     None  prayed  more  earnestly 
than  the  Covenanter  for  the  golden  hour  when,  as  there  is 
one  riockmaster,  so  there  shall  be  but  one  flock.     For  proof 
of  it,  we  may  hearken  to  young  George  Gillespie,  who  died 
at  thirty-five,  twelve   years   before  Charles   came  back,  but 
who  has  left  behind  him  an  unforgotten  name.     His  brothers 
would   have  said   Amen    to    his   short,   decisive,   wholesome 
affirmations.     "There  is  but  one    Christ,"  he  declares.     "Is 
there  so  much  as  a   seam  in   all   His   garment?     Is   it  not 
woven  throughout,  from  the  top  to   the   bottom  ?     Will  you 


200  MEN  OK  THE  COVENANT 

have  one-half  of  Israel  to  follow  Tibni,  and  another  half 
to  follow  Omri  ?  We  shall  be  one  in  heaven ;  let  us  pack  up 
differences  in  this  place  of  our  pilgrimage  the  best  way  we  can. 
Brethren,  it  is  not  impossible.     Pray  for  it.     Endeavour  it." 

The  other  truth  is  that  of  the  purity  of  the  Church.     There 
is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  maintained  simultaneously 
with  the  doctrine  of  the  Church's  unity.     But  the  pitiful  fact 
is  that  frequently  the  two  have  seemed  contradictory,  and  that 
those  most  zealous  for  the  white  stainlessness  of  the  family 
of  God  have  thought  themselves  compelled  to  forget,  in  theory 
and  in  practice,  the  brotherhood  of  the  saints.     It  was  so  in 
Covenanting  story.     By  and  by  divergences  entered,  suspicions 
crept  in,  strifes  sprang  up  in  the  camp  where  there  was  utmost 
need  for  co-operation.     The  enemy  offered  the  outed  ministers 
the   Indulgence,   permitting  them  to   return  on   certain  con- 
ditions to  the  pulpits  from  which  they  had  been  expelled.     But 
the  Indulgence  was  an  apple  of  discord.     A  few  accepted  it. 
And   then,  amongst  the  faithful  who  refused  the   bribe,   the 
question   arose :  Was   it  right  to  have  intercourse  with  men 
who  had  lapsed  from  the  perfect  standard  ?     Some  chose  the 
method  of  kindliness ;  but  others  thought  and  said  that  fidelity 
must   keep   them   apart  from   those  who   had  parleyed  with 
the  foe.     The  melancholy  divisions   multiplied;   for  soon  the 
enthusiasts  for  the  Church's  sanctity  shrank  from  fellowship 
with   the   brethren   of  gentler   spirit  who  could   not  wholly 
excommunicate   the   Indulged.     The   adoption    of  such   posi- 
tions indicates  a  change  of  view.     The  idea  of  purity  has  been 
exalted,  while  that  of  unity  is  correspondingly  lowered.     There 
must  be  no  sliglitest  discord  in  the  orchestral  music,  no  speck 
of  dark  in  all  the  firmament  of  blue. 

It  ought  to  be  possible  so  to  publish  the  Church's  catholicity 
that  no  hurt  shall  be  inHicted  on  her  holiness,  and  so  to  insist 
on  her  holiness  that  her  catholicity  shall  yet  remain  unim- 
paired. The  men  who  can  give  its  due  place  to  each  of  these 
essentials  will  be  the  best  wardens  of  the  Temple. 

The  minister  in  Covenanting  times  was  a  teacher  also.  And 
it  was  a  great  field  of  truth,  whose  treasures,  when  he  had  first 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  201 

found  them  for  himself,  he  displayed  and  commended  to  others. 
He  led  his  people  through  the  spacious  country  of  the  Bible, 
going  down  before  them  into  its  shadowy  ravines  and  climb- 
ing its  towering  heights,  shepherding  the  flock  in  the  green 
pastures  and  by  the  side  of  the  waters  of  quietness. 

Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  noticeable  about  these  preachers, 
although  it  is  a  feature  as  marked  in  their  Puritan  contem- 
poraries in  England,  than  their  anxiety  that  the  congregation 
should  understand  the  Word  of  God,  in  the  breadth  of  it  and 
the   length  of  it.     They  were  expositors.     They  delighted  to 
move  patiently  and  leisurely  through  entire  books  of  Scripture, 
chapter  by  chapter,  paragraph  by  paragraph,  verse  by  verse. 
They   missed   nothing.     The    stones   thereof  are   the  2^l(f'Ce    of 
sapphires,  they  would  have  confessed  with  the  miner  of  whom 
Job   speaks,  and   it  hath   dust   of  gold.     There   are   Scottish 
libraries  in  which  the  favoured  visitor  may  see  whole  sets  of 
portly  volumes  in  closely  written  manuscript,  five  of  them  or  six, 
containing  the  pulpit  commentary  of  a  Covenanting  divine  on 
a  single  Gospel.     It  was  a  liberal  education  for  the  listeners  to 
travel  thus  intelligently  and  carefully  through  some  section  of 
the  Holy  Land  of  revealed  truth.     Dr.  George  Adam  Smith 
was  right,  when  he  said  recently  that  such  expository  lectures, 
for  which  the  pulpit  of  Scotland  has  been  renowned  ever  since 
Keformation  times,  "  could  be  sustained  only  upon  a  continuous 
tradition  and  habit  of  scholarship  " ;  and  the  instruction  com- 
municated  by  the  preacher  made  the  auditors  in  the   rough 
unpaiuted  pews  men  and  women  who  loved  to  grapple  with 
the  profoundest  problems,  and  who,  if  they  knew  nothing  of 
the   fairy  tales   of  science,  were   at   home   among   the   dee]* 
things  of  God.     Much  was  necessarily  wanting — the  results  of 
modern  research,  and  the  conclusions  of  a  beUeving  and  reverent 
criticism.     But,  according    to  the  standard  of  their  day,  the 
spokesmen  of  Presbytery  were  students  and  exegetes ;  and  they 
trained  a  generation  whose  members  were  well  able  to  give  a 
reason  for  the  hope  that  was  in  them.     This  regular  and  pro- 
longed  search  into  the  contents  of   the   Bible   could   not,  of 
course,  be  carried  forward  when  the  fires  of  the  Persecution 
were  blazing  most  warmlv.     It  would  be  foolisli  to  look  for  it 


202  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

at  the  conventicles  and  through  the  agonies  of  the  Killing 
Time.  Then  the  word  of  the  preacher  had  to  be  swift  as  a 
flash  of  lightning,  sharp  as  a  two-edged  sword,  and  sweet  as  the 
dropping  honey  in  the  forest  which  Jonathan  sipped  when  he 
and  his  were  fainting  in  the  day  of  battle.  But,  ere  those 
sifting  years  arrived,  the  people  had  been  braced  to  meet  their 
demands  and  sorrows  by  the  wisdom  and  the  strength  they  had 
accumulated  from  the  Book  of  God. 

Calvinism  was  the  system  of  truth  which  speaker  and 
hearers  found  in  the  Scriptures  they  explored  together,  the 
Calvinism  which  teaches  that  the  high  decree  and  the  regal 
sceptre  and  the  majestic  dominion  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty 
extend  to  everything  that  happens  in  the  universe.  They 
made  less  of  His  Fatherhood  than  we  do,  and  they  lost  by  the 
omission ;  but  they  made  more  of  His  Sovereignty,  and  they 
were  energised  by  the  remembrance.  Calvinism,  it  has  been 
said  by  one  who  is  an  impartial  witness,  "is  a  theory  that 
might  have  been  expected  to  sink  men,  crouching  and  paralysed, 
into  the  blackest  abysses  of  despair ;  and  it  has  in  fact  been 
answerable  for  much  anguish  in  many  a  human  heart.  Still 
it  has  proved  itself  a  famous  soil  for  rearing  heroic  natures. 
On  the  black  granite  of  Fate,  Predestination,  and  Foreknow- 
ledge absolute,  the  strongest  of  the  Protestant  fortresses  all 
over  the  world  were  founded.  Well  might  it  have  been  antici- 
pated that  fatalism  as  unflinching  as  this  of  St.  Paul,  Augustine, 
and  Calvin  would  have  driven  men  headlong  into  '  desperation, 
and  wretchlessness  of  most  unclean  living.'  On  the  contrary, 
it  exalted  its  votaries  to  a  pitch  of  moral  energy  that  has  never 
been  surpassed ;  and  those  who  were  bound  to  suppose  them- 
selves moving  in  chains  inexorably  riveted,  along  a  track 
ordained  by  an  unseen  Will  before  time  began,  have  yet 
exhibited  an  active  courage,  a  resolute  endurance,  a  cheerful 
self-restraint,  an  exulting  self-sacrifice,  that  men  count  among 
the  highest  glories  of  the  human  conscience."  Little  needs  to 
be  added  to  Mr.  Morley's  eloquent  tribute,  except  this,  that 
the  Calvinistic  training  of  the  Covenanters  helped  them  not 
only  to  heroism  but  to  beauty  of  character.  The  theology 
which  ascribes  all  good  in  man  to  the  grace  of   God,  which 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  203 

reveals  the  measureless  distance  between  that  which  is  born  of 
the  flesh  and  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit,  which  bids  us 
sing,  "  Thou  must  save,  and  Thou  alone,"  has  certainly  been  the 
parent  of  princely  and  winsome  lives.  It  did  more  than  gird  the 
souls  that  believed  in  it  for  Drumclog  and  the  Grassmarket ;  it 
clothed  them  in  the  splendid  garments  of  children  in  the  house- 
hold of  the  King,  who  is  eternal  and  immortal  and  invisible. 

The  preacher  was  bondman  too — bondman  of  a  Master 
without  spot.  We  do  him  injustice  if  we  denounce  his  religion 
as  one  of  dry  speculation,  of  metaphysical  dogma,  of  mere 
political  and  ecclesiastical  controversy.  He  was  smitten  with 
reverence  for  the  Son  of  God.  He  bent  low  before  the  match- 
lessness  of  Christ.  He  was  of  one  mind  with  Christina 
Eossetti :  "  0  Jesu !  better  than  Thy  gifts  art  Thou  Thine  only 
Self  to  us."  His  language  winged  its  flight  into  the  empyrean 
of  rapture  and  poetry,  when  his  Lord  was  his  theme.  Among 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  The  Song  of  Solomon  had 
a  singular  fascination  for  him,  because  he  spiritualised  its 
vehement  and  affectionate  verses,  and  saw  in  them,  as  in  a 
mirror,  the  consummate  face  of  Jesus.  "  When  they  speak  of 
Christ,"  says  the  raihng  scribe  of  The  Scotch  Presbyterian 
Eloquence,  "they  represent  him  as  a  Gallant,  Courting  and 
Kissing,  by  their  Fulsome  Amorous  Discourses  of  the 
mysterious  Parables  of  the  Canticles"  But  the  castigator  had 
not  that  satisfying  vision  of  the  divine-human  Lover  which 
had  captured  the  hearts  of  the  ministers  he  ridiculed;  if  it 
had  dawned  on  him,  he  would  have  understood  them  better, 
and  would  have  sat  humbly  at  their  feet. 

"  Christ's  absence,"  cried  John  Welwood,  "  is  so  bitter  that 
no  earthly  thing  can  comfort  folk;  no  corn  and  wine  and 
company.  Nay,  not  only  so,  but  duties  and  the  fellowship 
of  the  godly  can  do  no  good.  No,  till  He  come,  angels  and 
apostles  cannot  comfort."  Samuel  Rutherfurd,  the  devotee  of 
the  "  white  and  red  "  in  the  one  only  Eose  of  Sharon,  tells  us 
the  same.  "  The  wife  of  youth,  that  wants  her  husband  some 
years,  and  expects  he  shall  return  to  her  from  over-sea  lands, 
is  often  on  the   shore;   every  ship  coming  near  shore  is  licr 


204  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

new  joy  ;  lier  heart  loves  the  wind  that  shall  bring  him.  home. 
She  asks  at  every  passenger  news :  '  0,  saw  ye  my  husband  ? 
What  is  he  doing  ?  When  shall  he  come  ?  Is  he  shipped  for  a 
return  ? '  Every  ship  that  carrieth  not  her  husband  is  the 
breaking  of  her  heart.  The  bride,  the  Lamb's  wife,  blesseth  the 
feet  of  the  messengers  that  preach  such  tidings.  Rejoice,  0  Zion, 
put  on  Thy  beautiful  <jarment& ;  thy  King  is  coming.  Yea,  she 
loveth  that  quarter  of  the  sky  that,  being  rent  asunder  and 
cloven,  shall  yield  to  her  Husband,  when  He  shall  put  through 
His  glorious  hand,  and  shall  come  riding  on  the  rainbow  and 
clouds  to  receive  her  to  Himself."  This  plenitude  of  joy  in 
Christ,  this  thirst  of  yearnmg  for  Him,  may  require  to  be  ex- 
yjressed  in  other  phrases  in  our  time  ;  but  the  preaching  is  dead, 
through  which  the  kingly  King  does  not  move  continually  with 
pierced  and  shining  feet. 

The  Covenanter  boasted  in  Christ  because  of  His  own 
unparagoned  perfection.  But  he  never  forgot  that  the  be- 
ginning of  acquaintanceship  witli  the  sufficient  Lord  is  at  the 
Cross.  The  Atonement,  rather  tlian  the  Incarnation,  to  which 
later  thinkers  have  inclined  to  give  the  foremost  place,  was  the 
centre  of  his  preaching.  He  taught  its  necessity :  how  God, 
being  so  invincibly  just  and  holy,  could  not  pardon  sin  until 
satisfaction  had  been  rendered  to  His  broken  law.  He  taught 
its  efficacy  and  completeness:  how  believing  men  were  con- 
demned and  crucified,  when  their  Substitute  was  condemned 
and  judged  and  crucified;  how  they  have  paid  all,  because 
their  Surety  has  paid  all.  He  taught  its  unbounded  value : 
liow,  even  if  the  testament  of  the  dying  Saviour  actually  takes 
effect  in  the  case  only  of  a  limited  number,  the  legatees  are 
sinners  without  exception,  and  everyone  is  entitled  to  put  in 
his  claim.  Never  did  he  allow  the  vessel  of  the  Church  to 
lose  sight  of  "  the  red  light  of  Golgotha,  and  shining  lamp  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  of  Him  who  was  delivered  for  our  offences 
and  raised  again  for  our  justification " ;  he  knew  that  she 
would  drift  to  ruin  and  wreck  if  she  did.  Long  ago,  as  Sir 
Thomas  Malory  relates,  when  Bors  de  Ganis  was  riding 
through  tlic  woods,  "  he  loolced  up  into  a  tree,  and  there  he 
saw  a  passing  great  bird  upon  an  old  tree,  and  it  was  passing 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  205 

iliy,  without  leaves ;  and  the  bird  sat  above,  and  had  little  birds, 
the  which  were  dead  for  hunger.  So  smote  he  himself  with  his 
beak,  the  which  was  great  and  sharp.  And  so  the  great  bird 
bled  till  that  he  died  among  his  birds.  And  the  young  birds 
took  the  life  by  the  blood  of  the  great  bird.  When  Bors  saw 
this,  he  wist  well  that  it  was  great  tokening."  The  spectacle 
of  the  One  who  bleeds  and  dies  for  the  many — the  knights  of 
the  Covenant  wist  well  that  it  was  great  tokening,  and  that  no 
other  spectacle  so  merits  attention  and  praise.  There  was  one 
of  the  Glide  and  Godlie  Ballates  of  the  previous  century  which, 
we  may  believe,  must  have  been  particularly  dear  to  them — 

All  my  Lufe,  leif  nie  not, 

Leif  me  not,  leif  me  not ; 
All  my  Lufe,  leif  me  not, 

Thus  niyne  alone  : 
With  ane  bnrding  on  my  bak, 
I  may  not  beir  it  I  am  sa  waik  ; 
Lufe,  this  burden  from  me  tak, 

Or  ellis  I  am  gone. 

With  sinnis  I  am  ladin  soir, 

Leif  me  not,  leif  me  not ; 
With  sinnis  I  am  laden  soil', 

Leif  me  not  alone. 
I  pray  the,  Lord,  thairfoir 
Keep  not  my  sinnis  in  stoir, 
Lowse  me  or  1  be  forloir, 

And  heir  my  mone. 

With  thy  handis  thow  lies  me  wrocht, 

Leif  me  not,  leif  me  not ; 
With  thy  handis  thow  hes  me  wrocht, 

Leif  me  not  alone. 
I  was  sauld,  and  thow  me  bocht, 
With  thy  blude  thow  hes  mc  coft, 
Now  am  I  bidder  socht 

To  the,  Lord,  alone. 

I  cry,  and  I  call  to  the. 

To  leif  me  not,  to  leif  me  not  ; 
I  cry,  and  I  call  to  the, 

To  leif  me  not  alone. 
All  thay  that  ladin  be, 
Thow  biddis  thamo  cum  to  the  ; 
Then  sail  thay  savit  be 

Throw  thy  mercy  alone. 


2o6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

At  the  preacher  in  one  other  aspect  we  may  glance.  He 
was  a  fisher  of  men,  filled  with  consuming  eagerness  to  catch 
souls  for  life  and  not  for  death. 

He  was  solicitous  to  enlarge  and  deepen  the  consecra- 
tion of  the  Christian.  It  was  no  slipshod  godliness  which  he 
inculcated ;  he  urged  his  hearers  to  rise  to  something  better 
than  the  conventional  religion  of  the  crowd.  On  the  evening 
of  a  Sacramental  Sabbath  in  the  Maytime  of  1659,  John 
Livingston  spoke  from  that  pregnant  command,  Remember 
Lot's  wife.  She  had  been  brought  up  and  educated  in  good 
company,  he  said.  Moreover,  she  was  half-way  to  Zoar,  and 
had  left  Sodom  burning  behind  her.  And  her  sin  might  be 
accounted  but  a  little  fault ;  for  she  did  nothing  more  heinous 
than  look  back  with  curious  eyes  and  with  thoughts  of  her  old 
and  bad  companions.  Yet  let  everyone  who  reckoned  himself 
a  pilgrim  to  heaven  remember  her ;  let  him  see  this  woman 
turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt,  "  whereby  God  made  one  stone  of 
another ;  because  her  heart  was  growing  hard  as  a  stone,  and 
so  must  the  other  parts  of  her  body  become  stone-like  too." 
Three  days  before  he  was  killed  at  Ayrsmoss,  in  the  summer 
of  1680,  Ptichard  Cameron  preached  his  last  sermon  on  the 
banks  of  the  Kype  Water.  "  The  Word  of  God  by  Cameron 
thundered,"  James  Grahame  writes ;  and  the  young  Elijah  of 
the  Covenant  could  thunder  when  he  chose.  But  he  left  the 
world  with  a  message  of  exceeding  gentleness  on  his  lips.  His 
text  was.  Be  still,  and  knoio  that  I  am  God.  He  might  have 
been  one  of  the  Mystics  proclaiming  the  need  for  stillness — for 
that  which  Madame  Guyon  described  as  the  Prayer  of  Silence. 
"  Are  ye  not  in  love  with  this,  Be  still !  Be  still  ?  .  .  .  With- 
out being  still,  there  is  no  right  going  about  duty.  Without 
it,  we  cannot  wrestle,  pray,  or  praise.  How  can  ministers 
preach,  or  people  hear  ?  How  can  there  be  reading  or  pray- 
ing aright,  without  being  still  ?  The  man  that  is  disquieted 
is  unfit  for  any  duty.  He  is  a  prey  to  every  tempta- 
tion. There  is  a  proverb,  '  It  is  good  fishing  in  troubled 
waters.'  The  devil  labours  to  confuse  men,  and  then  he 
easily  catches  them.  He  busks  his  hook,  and  takes  by  one 
temptation  or  another.     So  that  the  thing  to  be  understood  is. 


SPOKESMEN  OF  CHRIST  207 

to  be  patiently  waiting  on  God."  Tlius  the  watchmen  on  the 
walls  of  the  Church  were  alert  in  scrutiny,  and  vigorous  in 
rebuke  of  what  was  wrong,  and  anxious  to  rouse  the  listless 
into  purer  aspiration  and  more  diligent  effort.  They  would 
have  no  disciple  sacrifice  the  delicate  bloom  of  his  Christliness. 
But  even  more  controlling  was  their  desire  to  lead  dying 
men  to  the  Good  Physician.  Of  one  of  their  number  it  is 
written  that  "he  would  have  stolen  folk  off  their  feet  to 
his  Lord  before  ever  they  were  aware."  It  was  not  that  he 
made  the  gate  into  life  too  accommodating  and  elastic.  He 
iterated  and  reiterated  the  terrible  risks  of  self-deception 
Esau  "  grat  his  fill,  but  he  never  grat  himself  into  repentance." 
Judas  "  was  admitted  to  come  far  ben,  before  he  betrayed  his 
Master."  Even  into  Peter's  faith  "Satan  sought  to  put  a 
skail-wind" — a  wind  which  should  disperse  all  Peter's  trust 
and  hope.  And  yet  men  must  not  linger,  before  subjecting  the 
Saviour  to  trial,  until  their  own  feelings  and  frames  are  every- 
thing they  could  wish.  "  The  business  is  not  desperate  or  past 
remedy,  so  long  as  there  is  so  much  softness  of  heart  as  to 
perceive  or  take  up  the  hardness  of  our  hearts,  and  to  be 
capable  of  regretting  it  before  God.  Hard  softness,  as  we  may 
call  it,  is  not  the  worst  kind  of  hardness."  Indeed,  the 
motive  may  be  far  from  high,  and  yet  the  seeker  will  not  be 
sent  away  ;  he  will  be  loaded  with  a  largesse  for  which  he  has 
never  asked.  The  sick,  who  appealed  to  Jesus  in  Galilee  for 
physical  health,  found  that  He  enriched  their  spirits  as 
willingly  as  He  cured  their  bodies.  "  Some  came,  as  it  were, 
to  buy  a  needle.  '  But  stay,'  said  He,  '  I  will  tell  you  that 
there  is  not  a  whole  shirt  upon  your  back.'  In  this  way  He 
made  many  a  bargain  with  poor  souls."  Anyone,  far  off  or 
near,  publican  or  Pharisee,  might  "  lippen  for  a  good  turn  at 
the  hand"  of  One  so  bountiful.  Only  let  bankrupt  men 
"  threep  it  on  Him " — press  the  sorrowfulness  of  their  case 
with  pertinacity — and,  soon  or  late,  they  must  know  "  His 
blinking  in  upon  their  conscience,"  the  lovelight  in  the  Bride- 
groom's eyes ;  and  then,  ere  long,  they  would  enjoy  "  approven 
homeliness  "  with  the  very  King  of  heaven.  Again  and  again 
the  ministers  protested  that  the  subtlest  and  worst  unbelief  is 


2o8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

that  which  pronounces  sin  too  dark  and  heavy  to  be  condoned 
by  the  merciful  Lord.  "  What ! "  they  exclaimed,  in  amaze- 
ment and  almost  in  anger,  "  will  you  dare  to  say  that  you 
durst  not  adventure  on  His  perfect  righteousness  for  your 
everlasting  relief  ? "  With  a  persistence  which  never  flagged 
they  besought  all  who  heard  them  to  make  peace  with  their 
Prince  Emmanuel,  whose  friendship  is  the  chief  est  good. 
"  For,"  they  said,  "  they  have  small  skill  that  seek  after  a 
greater  ferlie,"  a  more  astonishing  wonder,  "  in  all  the  world, 
than  Christ." 

It  is  the  crowning  distinction  of  the  preachers  of  the 
Covenant  that  there  quivered  through  them  tlie  passion  to 
redeem,  and  that  they  could  themselves  have  perished  for  the 
saving  of  others. 


THE   OLD   MANSE  AT  STIllLING — JAMES  GUTHKIk's   HOUSE. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

ARE  WINDLE-STRAWS  AND  SAND-LAVEROCKS  BETTER 
THAN  MEN? 

WE  left  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale  wedded  to  the  Countess 
of  Dysart,  and  severed  through  the  mischief  of  her 
influence  from  his  wisest  friends.  But  now  we  must  speak  of 
him  as  Duke,  and  not  Earl ;  for,  by  the  favour  of  his  Sovereign, 
he  had  mounted  higher  in  the  peerage.  It  would  be  hard  to 
say  to  what  extravagant  heights  his  Duchess  and  he  aspired. 
In  their  progresses  through  Scotland  they  were  liker  royalties 
than  subjects.  They  demanded  pomps  and  splendours,  a 
deference  and  a  dignity,  with  which  the  monarch  himself 
would  have  been  content.  They  imposed  taxes  which  grew 
more  abnormal  with  every  year.  The  country  groaned  under 
their  rapacity,  but  could  find  no  road  out  into  the  free  air. 
Always  the  chains  were  fastened  more  tightly,  and  the  emanci- 
pation day  seemed  to  retreat  into  a  more  hopeless  distance. 

Efforts  were  made,  indeed,  to  shake  off  the  tyranny.  In 
November  1673,  Lauderdale  opened  one  of  his  Parliaments  in 
Edinburgh ;  and  then,  more  distinctly  than  before,  he  became 
aware  of  the  opposition  to  his  policy  and  himself,  which  had 
quietly  been  gathering  strength,  and  which  was  never  to  cease 
so  long  as  he  continued  master  of  Scotland.  It  was  an  opposi- 
tion which  filled  him  with  displeasure.  The  leader  was  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton,  a  tactician,  as  it  proved,  of  no  little  skill. 
When  the  Parliament  assembled,  he  declared  that  the  King's 
letter  ought  not  to  be  answered  until  the  sorrows  of  the  country 
were  redressed.  The  Earl  of  Morton  rose  and  said  that  he 
adhered  to  this  motion.  The  same  short  speech  was  made  by 
the  Earls  of  Eglintoun,  Cassillis,  Roxburgh,  and  Queensberry. 
14  209 


2IO  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

The  Earl  of  Dumfries  delivered  a  longer  and  more  emphatic 
address ;  he  wished  a  Committee  for  Grievances  to  be  named 
there  and  then.  Sir  Francis  Scott  had  "a  formall  wise  set 
speech,"  in  which  he  maintained  that  Scotsmen  were  treated 
worse  than  strangers.  The  Laird  of  Polwarth  was  most 
wrothful  of  all;  he  would  have  it  put  to  the  vote  whether 
they  were  a  free  Parliament  or  a  herd  of  dumb,  driven  cattle. 
An  experience  like  this,  Lauderdale  confesses,  "tempted  my 
patience."  It  was  often  to  be  tempted  anew  in  the  years  that 
succeeded.  "  The  Party,"  as  it  was  known  in  the  politics  of 
the  time — "  the  Faction,"  as  he  styled  it  somewhat  more  con- 
temptuously— established  itself  more  and  more  firmly ;  and 
the  repression  and  cruelty  of  his  dictatorship  constantly  added 
fuel  to  the  persistent  fires  of  the  revolt.  Lord  Tweeddale,  once 
his  familiar  counsellor,  joined  the  malcontents  soon ;  Lord 
Kincardine  was  to  follow  after  a  time.  The  skies,  one  per- 
ceives, were  beginning  to  threaten  and  gloom  over  the  Duke's 
head. 

But,  for  many  a  day,  the  antagonism  was  to  end  in  the 
defeat  of  the  assailants  and  in  the  increase  of  his  own  prestige. 
The  reason  was  that,  through  good  report  and  bad,  the  King 
stood  by  him.  Charles  found  him  essential  to  his  schemes,  and 
never  failed  in  his  support.  In  January  1674,  when  an  onslaught 
was  made  in  the  House  of  Commons  on  Lauderdale's  extortion 
and  high-handedness,  His  Majesty  hastened  to  comfort  the 
harassed  minister.  He  wrote  him  an  autograph  letter,  which 
begins  :  "  You  may  easily  beleeve  that  I  do  not  want  businesse 
at  this  time,  but  yett  I  could  not  lett  this  expresse  go  to  you 
without  a  line  under  my  oune  hand,  to  assure  you  of  the 
continuance  of  my  kiudnesse  to  you,  which  nothing  shall  alter." 
A  few  years  later,  there  was  proof  of  attachment  more 
significant  yet.  The  distrust  of  the  Duke  was  profounder,  and 
the  hostility  to  his  person  and  methods  more  outspoken.  A 
new  attack  had  been  directed  against  liim  in  the  House.  Now 
it  was  that,  for  the  only  time  in  his  life,  Charles,  who  could 
always  disguise  the  tempests  of  his  soul  under  smiling  looks 
and  polite  phrases,  lost  his  temper  outright.  Henry  Saville,  one 
of  the  Gentlemen  of  the  Bedchamber,  had  ventured  to  give  his 


ARE  VVINDLE-STRAWS  BETTER  THAN  MEN?     211 

vote  against  Lauderdale.  He  was  the  solitary  man  in  the 
royal  household  who  showed  this  independence.  There  were 
those,  of  course,  who  immediately  reported  the  matter  to  the 
King.  At  night,  Saville  entered  his  master's  room.  But, 
"  upon  tlie  first  sight  of  him,"  Charles  "  fell  into  such  a  passion 
that  his  face  and  lipps  became  as  pale  almost  as  death,  his 
cheeks  and  amies  trembled,  and  then  he  sayd  to  Saville, '  You 
Villayne !  how  dare  you  have  the  impudence  to  come  into  my 
presence,  when  you  are  guilty  of  such  basenes  as  you  have 
showne  this  day  ?  I  doe  now  and  from  henceforth  discharge 
you  from  my  service,  commanding  you  never  to  come  any 
more  to  any  place  where  I  shall  happen  to  be.' "  So  the 
courageous  gentleman  "  was  sent  a-packing,  with  a  vengeance 
to  him";  and  Lauderdale  has  the  singular  honour  of  being 
the  one  man  in  Britain  for  whom  the  lovelesjs  monarch  cared 
enough  to  flame  forth  in  hot  defence. 

In  those  dreary  years  the  iron  was  driven  deeper  into 
the  bleeding  Church.  More  sadly  than  ever,  the  conventicle 
became  the  target  for  the  fiercest  darts  of  those  in  authority. 
Let  a  Covenanter  absent  himself  from  the  homily  of  the 
ignorant  curate,  and  immediately  he  was  reduced  to  beggary 
by  the  fines  exacted  from  him.  Let  him  go  out  to  the  open 
air  to  listen  to  the  Gospel  preached  in  the  accent  of  his  fathers, 
and  he  was  assisting  at  a  conventicle ;  and  for  such  complicity 
he  must  be  thrown  into  a  prison  at  home,  or  sold  as  a  bond- 
slave in  the  far-off  plantations.  No  master  might  engage  a 
servant  suspected  of  Whig  ideas.  No  landlord  might  keep, 
in  farm  or  cottage,  a  tenant  who  held  the  beliefs  of  the  hunted 
folk.  Worst  of  all  was  it  to  be  a  minister.  If  pride  in  Christ 
and  pity  for  men  forced  any  to  speak  to  the  people  in  the 
fields,  the  crime  was  capital  and  the  sentence  was  death. 
Preacher  or  hearer,  his  movements  were  dogged  by  spies.  In 
the  smallest  company  an  informer  was  perhaps  present,  the 
wolf  in  sheep's  clothing.  The  offender  might  be  dragged 
before  the  Secret  Committee  of  the  Privy  Council,  a  Committee 
responsible  to  no  superior  Court,  and  swayed  neither  by  mercy 
nor  by  justice.  What  was  more  odious  still,  men  and  women 
were    shut  out,  by  the   penalties  pronounced  against  Inter- 


212  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

communing,  from  the  common  hospitalities  and  relationships 
of  life.  Neighbours  must  shun  them.  Their  next  of  kin  must 
close  the  door  in  their  faces.  They  were  as  much  isolated  as 
the  leper  was  under  the  old  Jewish  law.  And  their  only 
leprosy  was  their  love  for  an  unseen  Master,  who  had  bound 
them  by  His  vows,  and  to  whom  they  must  be  true  although 
the  heavens  should  fall. 

This  was  the  pass  to  which  things  had  come  about  the  end 
of  1676.  In  so  great  a  fight  of  afflictions,  the  Covenanters 
might  have  been  forgiven  if  they  had  imagined  that 

God  is  gone, 
And  some  dark  spirit  sitteth  in  His  seat. 

For  a   few    months   the   conventicles    were   abandoned;  and 
Lauderdale  enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  looking  over  a  Scotland 
stricken    and    silent.     In    Uothen,    Mr.    Kinglake    relates   a 
surprising  thing    which    befell  him   in    the    desert   between 
Palestine  and  Egypt.     On   the  fifth  day  of  his  journey,  the 
air  lay  dead,  and  all  the  earth  that  he  could  reach  with  his 
keenest  sight  and  keenest  listening  was  still  and  lifeless.     The 
sun  shone  fiercely  down.     He  drooped   his  head  under  the 
glare,  and  fell  asleep  for  how  many  minutes  or  moments  he 
could  not  tell.     But  soon  he  was  gently  awakened  by  a  peal 
of  church  bells,  his  native   bells,  the   bells  of  the  village  of 
Marlen,  which  never  previously  had  sent  their  music  beyond 
the   neighbouring    hills.      His    first    thought    was    that   he 
remained   under   the   spell  of   a   dream.     He  roused  himself 
by  a  determined  effort.     But  still  the  Marlen  bells  rang  on, 
steadily,  tenderly,  till  slowly  their  tones  died  away.     It  was  a 
peculiar  experience,  which  he  ascribed  to  the  great  heat  of  the 
sun,  and  the  perfect  dryness  of  the  air,  and  the  deep  stillness 
all  around — causes  which  rendered  the  hearing  organs  liable 
to  tingle  under  a  passing  touch  of  memory  in  that  interval  of 
sleep.     We  may  say  that,  in  their  deserts,  the  Covenanters  had 
until  now  been  attended  by  the  grave,  sweet  melodies  of  the 
churches   they  had  loved  in  happier   times.     For  them    the 
old  bells  rang  in  moorland  spots  and  among  lonely  hills,  where 
such  music  had  never  been  heard  before.     But,  for  a  season 


ARE  WINDLE-STRAWS  BETTER  THAN  MEN?     213 

Lauderdale  frightened  even  these  chimes  into  muteness ;  and 
there  is  no  testimony  to  his  unholy  power  more  unequivocal 
and  surprising. 

But  "  the  panting,  huddled  flock  whose  crime  was  Christ " 
quickly  recovered  itself.  The  King's  Commissioner  had 
returned  from  Whitehall  to  Edinburgh,  in  the  summer  of 
1677.  In  October,  Lord  Dundonald  reported  to  him  that 
again  there  were  field-preachings  in  Carrick,  and  that  their 
former  practices  were  being  resumed  by  the  Presbyterians  of 
the  west.  In  November,  the  Duke  wrote  to  the  English  Prime 
Minister,  the  Earl  of  IHmby,  for  whom  at  first  he  had  enter- 
tained a  cordial  dislike,  but  with  whom  now  he  lived  on  terms 
of  apparent  friendship,  informing  him  of  a  momentous  step 
which  he  had  just  taken.  We  have  come,  in  fact,  to  the 
darkest  of  his  many  sins  against  the  Church  in  whose  bosom 
he  was  nurtured. 

The  news  which  he  communicated  to  Lord  Danby  was  this, 
that  he  had  given  orders  to  assemble  a  Highland  force,  "  in 
case  the  phanaticks  should  rise  in  arms,"  and,  moreover,  that 
the  gentry  of  the  disaffected  shires  had  been  called  together : 
"  not  that  we  expect  much  from  them,  but  to  try  their  puis 
and  render  them  inexcusable."  The  two  Highland  lords, 
Atholl  and  Murray,  he  went  on,  had  already  mustered  fourteen 
hundred  men,  and  tidings  were  looked  for  from  other  chieftains 
in  the  north.  Some  ominous  sentences  follow  :  "  In  the  mean- 
time they  doe  not  rise  in  armes  in  the  west.  How  soone 
they  may  take  armes  no  man  can  tell ;  for,  as  I  have  often 
said,  they  are  perfitely  fifth-monarchy  men,  and  no  judgment 
can  be  made  upon  the  grounds  of  reason  what  they  may 
attempt ;  and  therefore  all  preparations  possible  are  to  be  made 
in  case  they  rise.  For  the  game  is  not  to  be  played  by  halfes  ; 
we  must  take  this  opportunity  to  crush  them,  so  as  they  may 
not  trouble  us  any  more  in  hast,  or  else  we  are  to  expect  to 
be  thus  threatened  by  them  next  year."  Lauderdale  was 
positively  setting  himself  to  foment  disturbance  in  the 
western  counties.  He  desired  a  pretext  for  letting  slip  the 
dogs  of  war,  and  for  sending  ruin  on  the  men  whom  he  hated ; 
and,  in  order  to  awaken  the  rebellious    spirit   in    them,  he 


214  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

took  the  initiative,  and  quartered  his  rough  Highlanders  on  a 
peaceful  country.  It  was  nothing  short  of  an  atrocity  in  the 
man  intrusted  with  the  guardianship  of  the  realm. 

The  battalions  were  raised ;  but  through  all  the  suspected 
parts  no  signs  of  revolt  were  visible.  This  new  army, 
turbulent  and  ill-disciplined,  must  be  employed  ;  to  keep  it 
standing  idle  would  endanger  the  peace  of  the  State.  It  was 
marched  forthwith  into  the  districts  where  the  Whigs  had 
their  stronghold.  Our  anger  burns  at  the  whole  transaction, 
and  not  least  at  the  help  given  to  it  by  the  Bishops.  The 
lords  over  God's  heritage  had  their  "  suggestions "  to  make. 
This  is  one  :  "  That  the  forces  setle  first  at  Aire,  having  rested 
some  few  days  at  Glasgow,  Aire  being  tlie  centre  of  a  great 
circle  of  the  disaffected ;  and  after  having  reduced  Oarrick,  and 
censured  the  conventiclers  in  those  parishes  which  are  served 
by  Indvdged  ministers,  they  may  goe  to  Lanerick  and  Clidsdale, 
and  so  forward  to  the  stewartrie  of  Kirkcudbright  and  the 
shyre  of  Galloway ;  in  which  places,  since  the  forces  are  to 
have  free  quarters,  particular  care  wold  be  taken  that  the 
burtlien  therof  may  be  upon  the  guiltie,  and  thus  the  innocent 
and  orderlie  people  will  find  themselves  eased  and  encoraged 
to  continue  in  their  orderlines  and  obedience."  The  tenderness 
of  ecclesiastics  lias  sometimes  a  cutting  edge  and  a  wolfish 
bite. 

Some  six  tliousand  Highlanders  there  v/ere,  and  some  three 
thousand  of  the  militia  from  other  parts.  In  February  1G78 
they  entered  Ayrshire.  For  many  of  the  Gaels  it  was  a  first 
exc\irsion  beyond  their  native  glens.  In  those  days  Celtic  and 
Lowland  Scotland  were  separated,  as  if  the  sea,  clissociabilis 
Oceamis,  rolled  between  them.  The  Highlander  had  no 
sympathy  with  the  character  and  pursuits  of  the  Sassenach, 
He  was  himself  as  untutored  as  his  own  Garry,  the  river 
which  comes  roaring  down  over  its  rocky  bed.  In  most  cases 
his  heart  was  no  less  savage  than  his  looks.  Numbers  of  the 
clansmen  were  armed,  not  with  sword  and  matchlock,  but  with 
spades  and  picks.  Their  leaders  brought  the  shackles  with 
which  they  meant  to  fetter  their  prisoners,  and  the  thumbkins 
l)y  which  they  hoped  to  extort  some  incriminating  confession. 


ARE  WINDLE-STRAWS  BETTER  THAN  MEN?     215 

But  in  one  sense  the  invaders  were  completely  disappointed. 
They  met  no  enemies  anywhere;  their  weapons,  they  found, 
were  unneeded ;  the  impetuous  rush  with  which  they  carried 
so  many  of  their  battles  was  never  to  be  practised  in  this 
strange  and  gratuitous  campaign.  On  every  side  they  were 
amongst  farmers  and  ploughmen  and  shepherds,  not  one  of 
whom  offered  to  oppose  their  advance.  In  .their  hearts  they 
must  have  resented  the  insults  to  which  they  were  subjected  ; 
but  they  refused  to  be  tempted  into  an  insurrection  like  that 
of  eleven  years  before.  They  took  the  spoiling  of  their  goods, 
if  not  joyfully,  at  least  with  meekness  and  patience. 

But  if  the  visitors  from  beyond  the  Grampians  were 
denied  the  sterner  delights  of  the  warrior,  there  remained  the 
satisfaction  of  the  riever  and  bandit.  Their  sojourn  was  a 
carnival  of  robbery.  Not  pleased  with  the  simple  food  placed 
before  them,  they  compelled  the  people  to  bring  them  brandy 
and  tobacco.  They  fell  upon  the  travellers  whom  they  met  on 
the  country  roads.  They  considered  themselves  authorised  to 
enter  every  house.  They  bulhed  and  overawed  any  whom 
they  supposed  to  be  hiding  money  from  them.  There  were 
worse  rudenesses,  too,  as  we  should  anticipate  from  men  a 
century  behind  their  victims  in  the  decencies  and  delicacies  of 
life.  Tlieir  pillage  enriched  them  marvellously.  "  When  the 
Highlanders  went  back,"  Eobert  Wodrow  says,  "one  would 
have  thought  they  had  been  at  the  sacking  of  some  besieged 
town,  by  their  baggage  and  luggage.  They  were  loaded  with 
spoil.  They  carried  away  a  great  many  horses,  and  no  small 
quantity  of  goods  out  of  merchants'  shops,  whole  webs  of  linen 
and  woollen  cloth,  some  silver-plate  bearing  the  names  and 
arms  of  gentlemen.  You  would  have  seen  them  with  loads  of 
bedclothes,  carpets,  men's  and  women's  clothes,  pots,  pans, 
gridirons,  shoes,  and  other  furniture."  One  suspects  that  the 
caterans,  like  the  Cretans,  whom  Epimenides  and  St.  Paul 
stigmatise,  were  "  evil  beasts  "  and  "  idle  gluttons." 

All  this  was  disgraceful  enough ;  but  there  was  more. 
Lauderdale's  Government  put  in  force,  against  those  Covenanters 
in  the  west  who  were  of  higher  rank,  an  old  Scottish  enact- 
ment known  as  the  "  Letters  of  Law-burrows."     If  a  person 


2i6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

feared  that  someone  else  meant  to  injure  him,  he  could  guard 
himself  against  his  dangerous  neighbour  by  procuring  these 
Letters.  They  bound  the  troubler  to  keep  the  peace.  They 
threatened  him  with  pains  and  penalties  if  he  caused  any 
annoyance.  But,  in  this  instance,  it  was  the  executive  of  the 
country  which  posed  as  the  aggrieved  and  terrorised  party. 
The  rulers  feigned  themselves  to  be  plunged  in  alarm  by  the 
subjects,  and  from  the  subjects  they  demanded  security  by 
means  of  the  Law-burrows.  Were  the  landlords  in  Ayrshire 
and  Lanark  and  Galloway  prepared  to  sign  a  bond  that 
everyone  resident  on  their  estates  would  conform  to  His 
Majesty's  wishes  in  Church  affairs  ?  If  they  were  not,  if  they 
pleaded  that  the  promise  was  extravagant  and  impossible,  then 
the  King's  ministers  and  Privy  Council  were  imperilled,  and 
must  take  legal  steps  to  shelter  themselves.  Up  in  London, 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth  was  amazed  when  he  heard  of  the 
remarkable  expedient.  Many  affirmed,  he  said,  that  it  was 
against  all  equity  to  hold  a  master  responsible  for  the  opinions 
of  his  tenants,  and  against  all  generous  dealing  to  command 
him  to  part  with  them,  and  so  to  forfeit  the  rental  which  they 
brought,  even  if  he  understood  that  their  tenets  did  not  square 
with  what  the  legislature  expected  these  to  be.  Moreover,  the 
Duke  added,  he  was  persuaded  that  "  the  Law-burrows  did  not 
meet  or  quadrate  with  this  affair."  But  Lauderdale's  friends 
at  Whitehall,  Sir  James  Fowler  and  Sir  George  Mackenzie, 
argued  with  passion  on  the  other  side.  And,  as  usual,  Charles 
championed  his  proconsul.  He  said  that  "  there  was  much 
reason  for  the  bond  for  securing  the  peace,  and  that  the 
alternatives  were  easy  for  the  masters,  and  nothing  hard  in 
it."  "  You  have  in  Scotland,"  he  went  on,  "  the  best  laws  of 
any  people  in  the  world."  Good  laws,  certainly,  for  a  monarch 
heedless  about  the  welfare  of  his  citizens,  if  he  contrived  to 
get  his  own  way. 

But  the  King,  though  he  was  as  indifferent  as  an  Epicurean 
god  to  the  doleful  song  which  steamed  up  to  him,  had  at  last 
to  listen.  In  the  closing  days  of  March,  a  paper  of  protest 
was  handed  to  him  by  the  Earl  of  Cassillis,  a  nobleman  whose 
sympathies  were  with  the  Covenant,  as  his  father's  had  been 


ARE  WINDLE-STRAWS  BETTER  THAN  MEN?     217 

before   him.     Eveu   yet   Charles,  seeing  everything  through 
Lauderdale's  eyes,  was  indisposed  to  grant  relief.     Calling  to 
him  the  Earl  of  Arran,  he  told  him  that,  "for  his  part,  he 
thoght  it  a  very  silly  paper,  and  that  he  could  make  a  shift 
to  answere  it  himself,  althogh  he  was  no  lawer,  yet  he  knew 
Scotland  pritty  well."     It  was  a  strange  thing,  he  said,  "  that 
he  had  been  tormented  for  severall  weeks  with  horrible  com- 
plaints  of   the  creuelty  and  outrages  done  in  the  west;  yet 
he  had  done  them  faire  play ;  and  that  he  had  now  receaved 
a  full  account  of  the  wholl  proceedings,  and  that  it  was  from 
persons  he  wold  trust ;  that  he  found  all  to  be  false  as  hell, 
and  that  things  were  not  pushed  so  farr  as  the  law  allowed ; 
that,  as  he  was  a  Christian,  he  did  not  see  what  els  could  be 
done,  and  that  he  thoght  himself  obliged  in  duety  not  to  fall 
in   a   snare   a   second   tyme,   that   he   was   now   resolved   to 
be  beforehand  with  the  Phanaticks,  that  he  was  sure  they 
made  use  of  religion  as  a  pretence  only,  that  he  understood 
their  desseins  " ;  and  so  on,  and  so  on.     Unhappy  Phanaticks  ! 
when  will  there  be  an  ending  to  their  contumelies  and  tears  ? 
But,  in  April,  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  and  some  of  his  allies 
came    to    London,    to    renew   their    attempt   to    undermine 
Lauderdale's  autocracy.     Between  the  Party,  backed  as  it  was 
by  Monmouth  and  the  Opposition  in  the  House  of  Commons 
and  the  root-and-branch  apologists  for  the  tyrant — the  English 
Government,  the  English  Bishops,  the  Duke  of  York,  and  the 
King  —  a    daily   and    desperate   wrestle   went   on.      Charles 
managed  again  to  snatch  his  favourite  from  disaster ;  but  he 
saw  that  something  must  be  yielded.     Not  for  the  sake  of  the 
downtrodden  west,  but  that  he  might  steal  from  Lauderdale's 
foes  the  arguments  they  were  plying  too  powerfully,  he  gave 
orders,  on  the   15th  of  April,  that  within   a   fortnight   the 
Highland  troops  must  leave  the  countryside  which  they  had 
laid  waste.      Once  more  the  Covenanters  could  breathe  more 
freely. 

That  such  devastation  should  have  been  the  work  of  a  man 
who  had  been  "  the  good  Maitland  "  of  Principal  Baillie,  and  a 
candidate  in  the  belief  of  Eichard  Baxter  for  the  saint's 
everlasting  rest,  is  one  of  the  most  impressive  proofs  that 


2i8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

history  can  furnish  of  the  iinstableuess  of  human  nature. 
"  Better,"  Lauderdale  cried,  "  that  the  west  hore  nothing  but 
windle-stravvB  and  sand-laverocks"  —  dog-grass  and  larks — 
'  than  that  it  should  bear  rebels  to  the  King '''  Thirty  years 
previously,  hia  tone  had  been  diiferent,  more  patriotic  and 
more  godly. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  MAY  DAY  ON  MAGUS  MOOR. 

JAMES  SHAKP  has  fallen  for  some  time  out  of  our  story. 
But  through  all  the  twelve  years  of  Lauderdale's  adminis- 
tration he  had  been  fighting  busily  his  evil  fight.  The 
statesman,  determined  to  suffer  no  plotters  against  his 
individual  ascendency,  had  humbled  the  Prelate's  pride  when 
he  began  his  own  reign.  Sharp's  submission  was  abject. 
With  some  verbal  protests,  for  the  sake  of  shielding  himself 
among  his  episcopal  brethren,  he  even  helped  Lauderdale  to 
pass  the  Act  of  Supremacy,  by  which  "  the  clogs  laid  upon  the 
King  were  knocked  off,"  and  His  Majesty  was  endowed  with 
absolute  control  over  all  ecclesiastical  persons  and  meetings 
and  matters.  "  Four  lines  in  the  Act,"  Sharp  asserted  at  the 
outset,  "  were  more  comprehensive  than  a  hundred  and  odd 
sheets  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth  "  ;  yet,  when  the  Commissioner 
and  he  "  had  a  sound  bout,  and  I  dealt  freely  with  him,"  all 
his  scruples  vanished  into  thin  air,  and  he  riveted  the  chains 
round  the  wrists  and  ankles  of  his  Church.  The  Bishop  of 
Eoss  would  have  fought  for  some  small  limitation  of  this 
all  -  embracing  Royal  prerogative ;  but  his  Grace  of  St. 
Andrews  "  snapt  him  up,  and  said  how  foolish  such  a  jealousie 
would  be."  He  could  always  be  relied  on  to  second  the  plans 
of  those  who  showed  themselves  possessed  of  sufficient  power, 
and  with  whom  it  was  hazardous  for  his  comfort  and  prosperity 
to  quarrel. 

No  doubt,  they  had  perpetually  to  watch  him,  although 
they  used  his  crafty  diplomacy  in  their  own  interest.  He 
was  so  apt  to  lift  his  head  overweeningly.  "  St.  Andrews 
brags  mightily,"  the  Earl  of  Kincardine  wrote,  in  the  July  of 


220  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

1671,  "and  eveu  grows  insolent.  You  know  cajoling  looseth 
him,  and  that  he  is  never  right  but  when  he  is  keept  under." 
But  a  little  astute  management  would  sober  his  arrogance, 
and  would  transmute  him  once  more  into  a  serviceable  tool. 
Nobody  detested  the  conventicles  with  such  virulence,  or  meted 
out  such  punishment  to  the  men  and  women  who  frequented 
them.  "  Most  of  all  that  were  at  these  rendezvouses,"  one  of  the 
members  of  the  Privy  Council  said,  "  catched  violent  colds,  in 
so  much  as  they  may  be  tryed  and  found  out  by  coughing." 
Some  pity  might  have  been  extended  to  those  for  whom  the 
road  of  the  Cross  was  thus  thorny  and  steep ;  but  James  Sharp 
had  none.  In  the  spring  of  1679,  a  year  after  the  Highlanders 
had  left  the  west,  he  brought  before  his  fellow-Councillors  the 
draft  of  a  new  edict,  more  deadly  eveu  than  those  which  had 
been  formerly  devised.  It  gave  liberty  to  kill  any  man  who 
went  armed  to  or  from  a  meeting  in  the  fields.  No  trial  was 
necessary.  The  meanest  oflficer  who  wore  the  King's  uniform 
might  shoot  the  suspected  person  on  the  spot.  This  was 
the  culmination  of  the  Archbishop's  endeavours  to  stifle  the 
Presbyterianism  which  he  had  once  professed.  But,  before 
he  received  tlie  Sovereign's  consent,  his  race  was  run,  and  he 
had  met  with  terrible  death. 

Before  now  there  had  been  warnings  given  him  of  the 
burning  hatred  engendered  by  his  presence.  Back  in  1668, 
James  Mitchell,  a  man  whose  brain  was  touched  with  madness, 
had  tried  to  assassinate  him  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh.  For 
six  years  the  would-be  murderer  escaped ;  but,  at  the  end  of 
that  time,  Sharp  recognised  him  one  day,  and  had  him  appre- 
hended and  led  before  the  Privy  Council.  The  Council, 
knowing  that  he  was  scarcely  responsible  for  his  actions, 
persuaded  him  to  confess  the  crime  under  a  solemn  promise 
that  his  life  should  be  spared.  He  was  sent  to  the  Bass 
Kock.  But  if  the  poor  man  reckoned  himself  safe  from  the 
scaffold  because  of  the  explicit  stipulation  made  to  him,  he 
had  not  fathomed  the  unrighteousness  of  his  judges.  In  1678, 
ten  winters  after  he  fired  his  shot  into  the  Primate's  coach, 
he  was  haled  before  the  Justiciary  Court.  It  seems  incredible, 
but  it  is  true,  that  the  Earl  of  Eothes,  who  was  Lord  High 


A  MAY  DAY  ON  MAGUS  MOOR  221 

Chancellor  of  Scotland,  Charles  Maitland  of  Hatton,  who  was 
Lord  Treasurer  Depute,  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale,  and  the 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews  himself,  one  after  another  entered 
the  witness-box,  and  swore  that  no  promise  of  pardon  had 
ever  been  given  by  the  Privy  Council.  It  did  not  matter  that 
a  copy  was  instantly  produced  by  Mitchell's  advocate ;  mere 
copies  of  documents  are  without  legal  value,  and  the  Council's 
register  was  itself  dehberately  withheld.  Even  Lauderdale  had 
his  compunctions  about  the  iniquitous  transaction,  and  would 
have  been  content  to  see  the  prisoner  consigned  again  to  the 
dungeon  on  the  Bass.  It  was  Sharp  who  showed  no  relenting. 
He  meant  that,  at  long  length,  the  capital  sentence  should  be 
inflicted ;  and  James  Mitchell,  in  the  mocking  language  of  the 
day,  was  sent  to  "  glorify  God  at  the  Grassmarket." 

Sixteen  months  after  his  execution,  the  Archbishop  was 
face  to  face  with  his  own  doom.  Predictions  of  it,  if  some  of 
the  Covenanting  writers  may  he  credited,  had  gone  to  him  in 
advance,  awesome  forerunners  of  the  awesome  event.  John 
Wei  wood,  whom  God  took  in  youth  from  the  evil  to  come, 
preached  one  Sabbath  at  Boulter  Hall,  in  the  parish  of  Porgan, 
not  far  from  St.  Andrews.  His  text  was  that  levelling  word 
of  St.  Paul,  Not  many  wise,  not  many  miglity,  not  many  nohle  are 
called;  and  he  bade  Christ's  people  who  were  in  stations  of 
distinction  rejoice  in  the  initial  M. ;  for  what  had  befallen  them 
if  the  apostle  had  said,  Not  any  ?  In  the  congregation  he  saw 
a  lad  wearing  the  Archbishop's  livery,  a  servant  from  his 
Grace's  palace.  Calling  him  when  the  sermon  was  ended,  he 
commanded  him  to  carry  a  grievous  message  to  his  master. 
"  Tell  him  from  me  that  his  wicked  life  is  now  near  an  end, 
and  that  his  death  shall  be  sudden,  surprising,  and  bloody." 
The  young  man  went  home,  and,  being  questioned  in  the 
evening  where  he  had  been,  announced  the  preacher's  augury 
of  terror.  His  lord  made  sport  of  it.  But  James  Sharp's  wife, 
poor  lady,  was  not  disposed  to  be  merry.  "  I  hear,"  she  said, 
"  that  these  men's  words  are  not  vain  words."  And  thus  tlie 
premonitory  shadows,  harbingers  of  dread,  had  fallen  across 
his  path.  Now  Sharp  was  on  the  eve  of  starting  from 
Edinburgh  for  London,  that  he  might  secure  Charles's  signature 


222  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

to  his  new  law  against  the  conventicles.  First,  however,  he 
went  northward  to  St.  Andrews.  It  was  Friday,  the  2nd  of 
May  1679.  He  rode  in  his  carriage  of  state,  drawn  by  six 
horses.  With  him  was  his  eldest  daughter,  and  he  had  an 
escort  of  four  servants.  Having  crossed  the  Forth,  he  travelled 
as  far  as  Kennoway,  some  twenty  miles  from  his  destination, 
where  he  spent  the  night.  On  the  morning  of  the  3rd, 
about  nine  o'clock,  he  left  the  house  of  his  host,  Captain 
Seton.  Twelve  miles  on,  he  came  to  the  manse  of  Ceres, 
where  he  "  smoked  a  pipe  with  the  Episcopal  incumbent." 
Meantime  he  sent  one  of  the  four  servants  with  his  salutations 
to  Lord  Crawford,  whose  mansion  was  near  at  hand. 

We  must  leave  him  in  Ceres  for  a  few  moments,  that  we 
may  learn  what  has  been  transpiring  at  no  great  distance. 
On  the  Friday  evening,  thirteen  men  had  met  on  one  of  the 
Fifeshire  moors,  to  carry  out  a  scheme  which  they  had  been 
discussing  for  some  weeks.  One  of  the  thirteen  was  dismissed, 
the  rest  not  being  clear  that  they  could  admit  him  to  their 
confidence.  The  twelve  who  remained  were  David  Hackston, 
of  Eathillet ;  John  Balfour,  of  Kinloch,  better  known  by  the 
designation  of  Burley ;  James  Eussel,  in  Kettle ;  George 
Fleming ;  two  Hendersons,  Andrew  and  Alexander  ;  William 
Daniel ;  three  Balfours,  James,  Alexander,  and  George ; 
Thomas  Ness ;  and  Andrew  Gillan,  a  handloom  weaver,  wlio 
had  already  suffered  for  his  stubborn  refusal  to  listen  to 
the  curates  in  Dundee,  and  who,  nine  years  after  this  memor- 
able Maytime,  was  to  be  hanged  at  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh. 
What  was  their  scheme  ?  It  was  to  chastise  William 
Carmichael,  a  drunken  and  bankrupt  magistrate,  whom  Sharp 
had  appointed  Sheriff-depute  of  Fife,  and  who  had  gleaned  a 
harvest  of  obloquy  by  his  brutal  energy  in  putting  into  force 
the  statutes  against  the  Covenanters.  It  is  not  certain  that 
they  intended  to  kill  Carmichael ;  probably  they  would  be 
satisfied  if  they  succeeded  in  frightening  him  from  the  district. 
That  night,  they  went  to  Eobert  Black's  in  Baldinnie,  who, 
being  a  prudent  and  wary  man,  had  absented  himself  from  his 
own  homestead,  leaving  his  guests  in  possession.  They  slept 
in  the  barn,  having  first  sent  one  of  their  number  to  try  and 


A  MAY  DAY  ON  MAGUS  MOOR  223 

discover  Carmichaers  whereabouts.  He  returned  from  Cupar, 
about  seven  o'clock  on  Saturday  morning,  with  the  information 
that  the  Sheriff,  along  with  three  or  four  friends,  was  to  spend 
the  day  in  hunting.  At  once  they  prepared  themselves  for 
the  pursuit.  But  one  mishap  followed  another.  First,  Eathil- 
let's  horse  stumbled,  and,  when  it  had  recovered  its  footing, 
took  fright  and  fled  ;  and  time  was  lost  in  recapturing  the 
nervous  animal.  Then  Eussel,  and  one  of  the  Hendersons,  and 
Fleming,  and  George  Balfour,  catching  sight  of  a  rider  not  far 
off,  and  hoping  that  this  was  the  man  of  whom  they  were  in 
search,  chased  him  for  miles,  only  to  find  to  their  mortification 
that  he  was  an  innocuous  laird  of  their  own  acquaintance.  By 
and  by,  one  of  the  band  reported  that  he  had  seen  Carmichael 
hastening  to  Cupar  with  all  speed,  some  hint  having  reached 
him  of  the  risks  by  which  he  was  beset.  "  God,"  they  began  to 
conclude,  "  had  remarkably  kept  them  back,  and  him  out  of 
their  hand."  Wearied  and  chagrined,  they  gathered  about 
midday  at  a  part  of  the  moor  close  to  Ceres — all  of  them, 
except  James  and  Alexander  Balfour  and  Thomas  Ness,  who 
had  turned  their  horses'  heads  homeward.  Here  they  halted, 
and  stood  talking,  before  they  said  their  farewells  and 
separated  on  their  various  roads. 

But,  just  then,  a  farm-boy  from  Baldinnie  came  running 
to  them.  He  gave  them  the  startling  news  that  the 
Archbishop's  carriage  would  pass  in  a  few  minutes.  They 
were  thunderstruck.  They  had  planned  the  castigation  of  a 
subordinate ;  could  it  be  that  God  was  surrendering  to  them 
the  prime  author  of  their  troubles  ?  Burley  said  so  in  as 
many  words — Burley,  the  Jehu  of  the  Covenant,  "a  little 
man,  squint-eyed,  and  of  a  very  fierce  aspect."  And  Eussel, 
afterwards  one  of  the  most  irreconcilable  of  the  Hillmen,  was 
equally  convinced.  "  Having  more  than  ordinary  outlettings 
of  the  Spirit  for  a  fortnight  together  at  Leslie,"  he  had  felt  it 
borne  in  upon  him  that  the  Lord  would  employ  him  in  some 
piece  of  service,  and  that  there  would  be  some  great  man, 
who  was  an  enemy  to  the  Kirk  of  God,  cut  off;  and  he  could 
not  be  quit  of  the  thoughts  of  Nero,  and  asked  "  where  he  could 
find  that  Scripture,  for  he  could  not  get  it "  : — a  somewhat 


224  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

nebulous  revelation  of  the  will  of  Heaven,  one  is  tempted 
to  think.  But  his  comrades  listened  approvingly.  They 
mounted  their  horses,  and  moved  in  the  direction  which  the 
carriage  must  take.  Again,  for  an  instant,  they  paused,  to 
select  their  commander.  With  one  consent  David  Hackston 
was  chosen — a  man  of  fearlessness,  of  principle,  of  honour,  of 
compassion  too,  although  he  was  strictest  of  the  strict.  But 
he  declined  the  responsibility.  "  The  Lord  is  my  witness,"  he 
said,  "  that  I  am  willing  to  venture  all  I  have  for  the  cause  of 
Christ ;  yet  I  dare  not  lead  you  on  to  this  action.  For  there 
is  a  known  private  quarrel  betwixt  the  Bishop  and  me,  so 
that  what  I  should  do  would  be  imputed  to  my  personal 
revenge  and  would  mar  my  testimony.  But,  as  you  are 
determined  to  go  forward,  I  will  not  leave  you."  When 
Eathillet  refused,  Burley  cried  in  loud  tones,  as  he  spurred 
on  his  horse,  "  Gentlemen,  follow  me ! "  He,  at  least,  was 
without  scruples,  without  questions,  without  visitations  of 
regret. 

The  carriage  had  gained  the  rising  ground  of  Magus  Moor ; 

and  now,  for  the  first  time,  its  coachman  saw  the  men  on 

horseback.     Sharp  liimself    saw  them.     "  Drive  !   Drive ! "   he 

shouted,  in  an  access  of  terror;  for,  whether  he  remembered 

John  Welwood  or  no,  ever  since   Mitchell's   attack   he   had 

been  dogged  by  fears  of  violent  death.     The  carriage  bounded 

on;  but  Kussel,  who  was  ahead  of  his  companions,  came  up 

with  it.     Firing  in  at  the  window,  he  exclaimed,  "  Judas,  be 

taken ! "     The  others  were  but  a  few  seconds  behind.     Some 

of  them  held  the  servants,  and,  severing  the  traces,  let  the 

horses  go  free.     Then  Eussel  went  to  tlie  door.    "  Come  out," 

they  commanded ;  for  they  were  anxious  that  Isabel  Sharp 

should   receive    no   harm.     Again    and   again   the   old    man 

refused ;  and  Fleming  and  George  Balfour  shot  at  him  seated 

within,  and  another  of  the  group  thrust  at  him  with  a  sword. 

Strangely  enough,  amid  such  a  throng  of  dangers,  he  was  not 

wounded ;   but   they   believed    him   killed,   and   would   have 

remounted    and    ridden    off.     But    the    Prelate's    distracted 

daughter  was  heard   sobbing,  "  There's   life  yet."     It  was   a 

sorrowful  and  fatal  indiscretion.     Once  again  the  remorseless 


A  MAY  DAY  ON  MAGUS  MOOR  225 

men,  with  the  single  exception  of  Eathillet,  gathered  round 
her  father. 

They  found  that  he  was  "safe  and  whole."  Burley  told 
him  their  purpose — to  slay  him,  not  from  personal  malice, 
but  because  he  had  shed  like  water  the  blood  of  the  saints. 
"  Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  save  my  life  ! "  he  begged,  still  from 
within  the  carriage,  "  and  I  will  see  to  the  saving  of  yours." 
But  the  sole  answer  he  had  was  the  stern  one  that  nothing 
could  shake  their  resolution;  for  they  were  spokesmen  and 
swordsmen  of  God  that  day.  Then  he  offered  them  money. 
"  Thy  money  perish  with  thee ! "  they  retorted  impatiently. 
As  he  continued  to  crouch  within  the  shelter  of  the  carriage, 
they  fired  again,  and  one  of  them  stabbed  him.  He  was 
wounded  now,  but  not  mortally.  Trembling,  he  came  out  at 
last.  They  urged  him  to  devote  his  last  moments  to  prayer ; 
but  he  would  only  pray  to  his  assailants  to  have  pity.  Soon 
he  caught  sight  of  Hackston,  "  standing  at  a  distance  with  his 
cloak  about  his  mouth,  all  the  time  on  horseback  " — standing, 
"  revolving  his  case  of  conscience  "  :  a  figure  which  fascinated 
Kobert  Louis  Stevenson.  He  crept  on  hand  and  foot  towards 
him.  "Sir,"  he  besought  him,  "you  are  a  gentleman;  you 
will  protect  me."  But  Hackston,  although  he  had  his  doubts, 
could  not  interfere.  "  I  shall  lay  no  hand  upon  you,"  was  all 
that  he  said.  Meanwhile  the  others,  unable  to  induce  their 
victim  to  pray,  were  growing  tired.  They  fired  simultaneously. 
Perhaps  in  their  excitement  they  did  not  take  proper  aim ; 
for  Sharp  was  still  alive.  Wild  thoughts  of  sorcery  seized 
them;  Satan,  they  fancied,  had  rendered  his  servant  proof 
against  their  bullets  ;  nothing  but  cold  steel  would  accomplish 
their  end.  Their  swords  were  drawn,  and  he  saw  the  blades 
gleam  in  the  sun,  and  knew  at  length  that  his  fate  was  sealed. 
He  was  not  a  brave  man ;  he  abandoned  himself  to  despair. 
His  daughter,  saddest  of  all  the  participants  in  the  frightful 
scene,  sprang  desperately  between  her  father  and  the  avengers 
of  blood.  Hackston  could  not  remain  longer  at  a  distance. 
Hurrying  to  his  friends,  he  entreated  them  to  "  spare  these 
grey  hairs."  But  daughter  and  intercessor  were  both  too 
late.  The  swords  which  deal  death  were  plunged  into  the 
15 


226  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

body  of  the  man  who,  for  twenty  years,  had  striven  with 
might  and  main  to  destroy  the  Church  of  Scotland.  "  They 
took  nothing  from  him  but  his  tobacco-box  and  Bible,  and  a 
few  papers.  With  these  they  went  to  a  barn  near  by.  Upon 
the  opening  of  his  tobacco-box,  a  living  humming-bee  flew 
out.  This  either  Eathillet  or  Balfour  called  his  familiar; 
and,  some  in  the  company  not  understanding  the  term,  they 
explained  it  to  be  a  devil.  In  the  box  were  a  pair  of  pistoll- 
ball,  parings  of  nails,  some  worsit  or  silk,  and,  some  say,  a 
paper  with  some  characters,  but  that  is  uncertain."  The 
odour  of  wizardry  hung  about  the  miserable  Archbishop  to 
the  close.  "  Go ! "  James  Russel  said  to  the  servants,  when 
all  was  over,  "  go,  take  up  your  priest ! " 

History  repeats  itself.  Three-and-twenty  years  later,  in 
July  1702,  a  party  of  fifty  men  met  in  the  wood  of  Altefage 
in  south-eastern  France,  a  score  carrying  fowling-pieces,  the 
others  armed  with  scythes  and  axes.  They  were  Camisards, 
and  their  leaders  were  the  Prophets,  Pierre  Siguier  and 
Salomon  Couderc  and  Abraham  Mazel.  After  a  harangue 
from  Seguier,  and  a  blessing  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 
they  started  their  march,  at  sunset,  through  the  forest  and 
across  the  wasteland,  to  the  little  town  of  Pont-de-Montvert. 
It  was  where  their  arch-enemy,  the  Abbe  du  Chaila,  had  his 
home.  They  burst  open  his  doors,  and  loosed  their  fellow- 
Huguenots  lying  in  the  cellars  with  stiff  and  swollen  limbs, 
and  fired  the  house.  Du  Chaila,  twisting  some  sheets  into  a 
rope,  attempted  to  escape  to  the  garden;  but,  falling  in  the 
descent,  he  broke  his  thigh.  He  crept  painfully  to  the  con- 
cealment of  a  hedge ;  but  the  blaze  disclosed  him  crouching 
in  his  thicket.  "  Ah,  here  thou  art ! "  Siguier  cried,  "  the 
persecutor  of  the  Enfants  de  Dieu.  The  Spirit  wills  that 
thou  shouldst  die."  He  dealt  him  the  first  blow;  and, 
afterwards,  the  others  struck  him  one  by  one.  "  Take  this 
for  my  father  broken  on  the  wheel,"  one  said ;  and  a  second, 
"  And  this  for  my  brother  sent  to  the  galleys  " ;  and  a  third, 
"  And  this  for  my  mother  dead  of  a  bleeding  heart "  ;  and  a 
fourth,  a  fifth,  a  sixth,  "  And  these  for  our  friends  imprisoned, 
exiled,    beggared."     He    received,    the    cure    declared    who 


A  MAY  DAY  ON  MAGUS  MOOR  227 

buried  him,  "  fifty-two  wounds,  twenty-four  of  which  were 
mortal."  And  all  that  night  the  Camisards,  on  their  knees 
beside  the  dead  body,  sang  the  psalms  of  Marot  and  Beza,  the 
grim  chant  mingling  with  the  sound  of  the  flames  and  the 
rush  of  the  torrents  close  by. 

What  judgment  shall  we  pass  on  the  tragedies  of  Pont-de- 
Montvert  and  Magus  Moor  ?  Infamous  as  Du  Chaila  and 
James  Sharp  were,  this  must  be  our  verdict,  "  The  deeds 
were  foully  done."  Sharp's  character  was  despicable.  His 
presence  was  a  menace  and  a  blight.  But  these  facts  do  not 
excuse  his  murder.  There  are,  of  course,  elements  of  ex- 
tenuation. The  act,  unlike  that  of  Seguier  and  Couderc  and 
Mazel,  was  unpremeditated,  committed  by  those  who  had 
come  out  to  scare  an  inferior  antagonist,  and  who  had  not 
a  thought,  when  they  started,  of  dealing  with  their  chief 
enemy.  It  was  condemned,  soon  and  utterly,  by  the  re- 
sponsible leaders  in  the  army  of  the  Covenant.  The  captain 
of  the  band,  moreover,  that  ferocious  and  iron-hearted  John 
Balfour  of  Burley,  was  not  a  religious  man;  he  was  an 
enthusiast,  whose  enthusiasm  darkened  into  the  bigotry  of 
the  fanatic ;  but  he  showed  no  sign  of  godliness,  and,  even 
before  this  sanguinary  3rd  of  May,  he  was  kept  back  from 
sitting  down  at  the  Sacramental  Table :  his  was  not  a  nature 
sensitive  to  the  highest  and  holiest  things.  In  Dr.  Walter 
Smith's  verses  we  hear  him  speak  in  his  own  tongue — 

I  killed  the  Archbishop,  while  Hackston  stood  by, 

And  he  was  as  much  in  the  deed  as  I ; 

But,  for  they  had  a  quarrel,  his  mind  was  not  clear, 

Our  nice  punctilious  cavalier  ! 

0,  we  must  not  sully  the  end  we  seek 

"With  a  personal  grudge  or  a  private  pique  ! 

So  we  stand  aside,  in  the  noonday  sun, 

Like  a  stern  old  Roman,  and  see  the  deed  done. 

Was  he  better  than  I,  with  my  dirk  to  the  hilt 

In  the  old  man's  heart,  when  his  blood  was  spilt  ? 

He  had  scruples,  forsooth — and  the  priest's  head  was  grey — 

And  he  did  not  the  deed,  nor  yet  said  it  nay. 

Bah  !  give  me  a  conscience  that  rules  with  a  will. 

Or  one  that  can  hold  its  peace  and  be  still ; 

But  neither  the  Lord  nor  the  devil  will  care 

For  your  conscience  that  scruples  and  splits  on  a  Imij-. 


228  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

It  is  an  accurate  portrait  of  one  whose  co-operation  was  no 
blessing  to  the  Covenanters,  but  a  weakness  and  a  reproach. 

Yes,  there  are  extenuations ;  but  the  old  word  is  the  right 
word :  Dearly  beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves,  hut  rather  give  place 
unto  wrath :  for  it  is  ivritte7i.  Vengeance  is  Mine,  I  will  repay, 
saith  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER  XX.     ' 

CLAVERS  IN  A'  HIS  PRIDE. 

AKCHBISHOr  SHARP  had  gone  to  his  account.  But  the 
winds  blew  as  unkindly,  and  the  hail  smote  as  bitingly, 
on  the  men  and  women  who  loved  Kirk  and  Covenant.  New 
figures  come  into  prominence  about  this  time  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Eoyalist  party.  The  succession  of  persecutors  was  not 
yet  exhausted. 

One  of  these  opponents  of  Presbytery  was  Sir  George 
Mackenzie  of  Eosehaugh,  the  outstanding  lawyer  of  his  day, 
who  had  just  been  made  King's  Advocate.  It  astonishes  us 
to  see  him  so  diligent  in  impeaching  the  Covenanters;  in 
the  earlier  part  of  his  career,  when  he  was  striving  for  a 
position  at  the  bar,  he  had  thrown  much  zeal  into  the  defence 
of  some  of  their  brethren.  When  the  Marquis  of  Argyll  was 
denied  the  help  of  more  experienced  pleaders,  Mackenzie  was 
one  of  the  three  juniors  allowed  to  champion  his  cause.  When, 
in  those  spring  months  of  1661,  James  Guthrie  stood  his  trial 
for  life,  he  had  the  same  apologist.  Five  and  a  half  years  later, 
when  the  prisoners  from  Pentland  faced  their  enraged  and 
unpitiful  judges,  the  man  who  fought  their  case  was  again  the 
young  nephew  of  the  Earl  of  Seaforth,  the  rising  hope  of  the 
Courts,  who  had  received  his  training  in  jurisprudence  not  only 
in  Aberdeen  and  St.  Andrews,  but  in  Bourges,  the  great 
Continental  school  of  law.  But  these  dialectic  exercises  had 
been  merely  so  many  displays  of  the  advocate's  cleverness ; 
they  had  not  unveiled  the  authentic  opinions  of  the  man.  He 
was  an  aristocrat  and  an  Episcopalian  to  his  finger-tips,  an 
upholder  than  whom  none  was  more  thorough  of  the  divine 
right  of  the  Stuart  kings.     When  he  was  no  longer  struggling 


230  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

for  his  foothold,  but  had  established  his  superiority  even  over 
his  inveterate  rival,  Sir  George  Lockhart,  he  ceased  to  give  the 
soldiers  of  the  Church  that  old  verbal  and  professional  friend- 
ship ;  he  pursued  them  with  an  argument,  a  satire,  an  oratory, 
consistent  in  the  dislike  they  manifested;  he  became  the 
Bluidy  Mackenzie,  whose  imposing  tomb  may  be  visited  in  the 
Greyfriars,  and  over  whom,  as  he  lay  low  and  silent  at  last 
under  its  adornments,  the  Edinburgh  schoolboys  gloried  in  a 
triumphant  jingle — 

Bluidy  Mackenzie,  come  out  if  ye  dar ; 
Lift  the  sneck,  and  draw  the  bar  ! 

Sir  George  knew  the  better  way,  if  he  followed  the  worse. 
Archibald  Primrose  and  Lauderdale  and  he  are  the  three  men, 
on  the  side  of  the  persecutors,  who  could  lay  claim  to  liberal 
culture.  The  treatises  written  by  the  King's  Advocate  fill  two 
stately  folios.  He  was  author  and  stylist,  as  well  as  barrister 
and  politician.  But  his  education  and  ability  did  not  soften  his 
heart  towards  the  Whigs ;  he  had  no  more  coveted  joy  than  to 
magnify  their  enormities,  and  to  see  them  sentenced  when  his 
spiteful  logic  had  done  its  work.  "  It  fares  with  heretics  as 
with  tops,"  he  could  reason  in  his  books,  "  which,  how  long 
they  are  scourged,  keep  foot  and  run  pleasantly ;  but  fall,  how 
soon  they  are  neglected  and  left  to  themselves."  But  before 
the  Privy  Council  he  contradicted  the  creed  of  the  study,  and, 
instead  of  neglecting  the  heretics,  scourged  them  truculently. 
John  Dryden  salutes  him  as  "that  noble  wit  of  Scotland"; 
James  Beattie,  a  lesser  poet,  but  a  better  authority  on  the 
matter  at  issue,  is  nearer  the  mark  when  he  assures  us  that 
"  his  favourite  art  was  lying  with  address,"  and  that  "  his 
hollow  promise  helped  the  princely  hand  to  screw  confession 
from  the  tortured  lips."  There  was  hardly  a  prosecution, 
during  those  crowded  years,  of  Covenanting  nobleman  or 
westland  farmer  or  servant-girl,  in  which  George  Mackenzie 
was  not  active.  He  had  "  a  violent  temper,  an  insolent 
manner,  a  cutting  tongue " ;  the  prisoners  had  meagre  chance 
of  escape,  when  he  examined  them  and  then  bade  the  judges 
do  their  duty.     "  Even  where  Claverhouse  was  the  hand  that 


CLAVERS  IN  A'  HIS  PRIDE  231 

struck,"  writes  Mr.  Francis  Watt,  "  his  seemed  the  brain  that 
plotted." 

But  Claverhouse  struck.     He  is  more  famous  still,  although 
his  fame  will  be  envied  by   few.     John   Graham  enacted  in 
the   field  those  oppressions  which  the  Lord  Advocate  planned 
in  the  Council  Koom.     One  would  never  imagine,  to  look  at 
his  portraits,  as  they  are  beautifully  engraved  in  Mark  Napier's 
volumes,  that  he  was  malevolent  and  flint-hearted.     The  face 
is   high-bred.     There  are  some   haughtiness  and  some  super- 
ciliousness in  the  features,  hints  of  a  proud  and  peremptory 
character   lying   behind.     But,    especially   in  youth,  it   is   a 
winning  face.     It  is  boyish  in  its  smoothness.     There  is  a  kind 
of  delicate  womanly  loveliness  about  it;  if  it  were  humbler 
and  illuminated  by  the  grace  of  God,  it  might  be  the  face  of 
a  Monica,  or  a  Catherine  of  Siena,  or  a  Mary  Sidney — "  the 
subject  of  all  verse,  Sidney's  sister,  Pembroke's  mother."     The 
eyes  are  large  and  full  and  dark.     The  countenance  is  framed 
in  the  long  love-locks  of  the  period,  the  curling  hair  of  which 
its  owner  was  so  careful,  attaching  small  leaden  weights  to  it 
at  nights  to  keep  the  tresses  in  their  place.     The  hands,  too, 
are  small  and  fine ;  are  they  capable  of  shooting  John  Brown, 
while  his  wife  stands  by  with  her  baby  in  her  arms?     We 
view  the  outward  aspect  of  Graham  of  Claverhouse,  and  we 
remember  the  false  Florimell  whom  Spenser  paints.     She  was 
invested  with  every  attraction,  for  she  was  formed  of  purest 
snow.     But  a  wicked  spirit,  full  of  fawning  guile,  inhabited 
her ;  and  she  had  only  to  be  set  beside  the  true  Florimell,  and 
then    the   enchanted  damsel   vanished   into   nought.     Beside 
some  of  the  humble  folk  whom  he  did  to  death,  God's  little 
and  hidden  ones,  the  persecutor's  surface  beauty  is  dissipated 
and  forgotten. 

He  came  of  a  noble  family,  being  the  elder  son  of  Sir 
William  Graham,  of  Claverhouse  in  the  shire  of  Angus,  a  few 
miles  to  the  north  of  Dundee ;  in  a  distant  way  he  was  related 
to  the  great  Marquis  of  Montrose.  Uncertainty  hangs  about 
the  date  of  his  birth;  probably  the  year  was  1643 — year  of 
the  Solemn  League;  although  the  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography,  from  which  one  differs  with   perturbation,  argues 


232  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

for  1649.      We  know  nothing  of  his  boyhood;    the  earliest 
mention  of   his  name  is   in  1665,   when   it   appears   in   the 
matriculation   lists  of   the    University   of   St.    Andrews.     By 
this  time,  if   he  were  born  in  1643,  he  was  twenty-two,  an 
age  at  which  most  Scottish  lads  have  finished  their  College 
course ;  he  seems  to  have  dallied  on  the  road  to  the  activities 
of  life.     Nor  did  his  Professors  find  him  eager  to  learn.     No 
doubt,  his  friend.  Sir  Ewan  Cameron,  asserts  that  he  "made  a 
considerable  progress  in  the  mathematics " ;  that  "  there  was 
no  part  of  the  belles-lettres  which  he  had  not  studied  with 
care  and  exactness  "  ;  and  that  he  "  was  much  master  in  the 
epistolary  way  of  writing,  and  argued  well,  and  had  a  great  art 
in  giving  his  thoughts  in  few  words."     But  either  Sir  Ewan 
is  a  partial  witness,  or  in  the  rovings  and  fightings  of  later 
years  John   Graham  lost  his   liking   for   the  Pierian   spring. 
Those  letters  of  his  which  survive  are  poor  productions,  alike 
in    composition   and    in   orthography.     He  "vainly  struggled 
after  grammar,"  Mr.  Hill  Burton  says ;  and  even  Sir  Walter 
Scott  ridicules  his  spelling  as   that   of   a   chamber-maid.     It 
may  be  feared  that,  at  St.  Andrews,  books  had  no  charm  for 
him.     Already  "  his  eyes  were  with  his  heart,  and  that  was 
far    away,"    on    the    battlefields    where  swords    clashed  and 
the  drum  summoned  the  soldiers  to   strenuous  combat.     "  I 
am  young,    and   thinkis   til   pas  til  France,"  he   might  have 
confessed  with  the  militant   parson   in   Sir  David  Lindsay's 
satire.     And  soon  his  governing  wish  was  translated  into  fact. 
For,  before  1670,  he  had  liberated  himself  from  the  toils 
of  St.  Leonard's  College,  and  was  a  volunteer  in  the  French 
army,  studying  the  practice  of  war  under  Marshal  Turenne. 
A  year  or  two  later,  he  passed  into  Holland,  then  engaged 
in  mortal  strife  with  its  bigger  neighbour.     Strangely  enough, 
he  came  to  be  a  favourite  with  William  Henry,  the  young 
Prince   of   Orange  and  Stadtholder   of  the  Netherlands,  the 
man  against    whom  by  and    by  he  was  to   contend  to  the 
death.     He  was  made  a  cornet  in  William's  bodyguard.     In 
a  note  to  one  of  the  pages  of  his  History,  Lord  Macaulay 
rejects  the   tale,   once  accepted  without  disbelief,  that   on   a 
memorable  occasion  he  saved  his  master  from  a  violent  end. 


JOHN   GRAHAM  OF  CLAVERHOUSE,    IN   HIS  YOUTH. 
From  the  Leven  Portrait. 


CLAVERS  IN  A'  HIS  PRIDE  233 

It  was  the  August  of  1674.  At  Seneff,  near  Mons,  William 
was  fighting  the  Prince  of  Cond^.  It  was  a  weary  and 
indecisive  battle ;  but  it  added  to  the  Stadtholder's  fame  for 
bravery  and  calmness.  "The  Prince  of  Orange,"  Cond^ 
exclaimed,  "  has  acted  in  everything  like  an  old  captain,  except 
in  venturing  his  life  too  like  a  young  soldier."  In  the  heat  of 
the  struggle  his  horse  plunged  with  him  into  a  treacherous 
marsh.  Immediately  his  enemies  closed  round,  and  it  appeared 
as  if  his  daring  and  his  wisdom  were  both  to  be  prematurely 
quenched.  But  Cornet  Graham  saw  his  commander's  peril. 
Without  the  delay  of  a  minute  he  galloped  to  him,  and, 
leaping  from  his  horse,  bade  the  Prince  seat  himself  in  the 
saddle.  Little  by  little  the  two  fought  their  way  through  the 
ring  of  their  antagonists,  back  to  the  firmer  ground.  The 
cornet  received  a  captain's  commission  for  his  courage,  and 
his  leader  was  loud  in  his  praise.  Such  is  the  story ;  and  if 
its  dramatic  fitness  stirs  in  us  Macaulay's  scepticism,  we  must 
remember,  too,  that  it  descends  directly  from  Claverhouse's 
time.  At  the  New  Year  of  1683,  one  of  his  admirers  addressed 
some  verses  to  him — verses  which  recalled  his  "conduct, 
prowess,  martial  gallantry "  on  the  day  when  he  "  wore  his 
white  plumach  "  at  Seneff.  And  there  is  an  old  Latin  poem 
written  in  his  honour  by  his  standard-bearer  at  Killiecrankie. 
It  pictures  "  bonnie  Dundee "  musing  over  his  camp-fire 
on  the  thanklessness  of  the  Prince  whose  life  he  once  had 
preserved — 

Ipse  mei  impositura  dorso  salientis  equi  te 
Hostibus  eripui,  salvumque  in  castra  reduxi. 

John  Graham  could  never  have  spoken  in  hexameters;  but 
there  remains  the  shadow  of  a  possibility  that,  after  all,  he  did 
the  feat  which  the  hexameters  commemorate.  Had  it  not  been 
for  his  luckless  aid,  says  that  extraordinary  Jacobite,  Mr.  Charles 
Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  "  the  persecutor  of  his  family,  the  evil 
genius  of  the  unfortunate  James,  the  fiend  of  Glencoe,  might 
have  sunk  innocuous,  and  comparatively  unknown,  in  the 
depths  of  a  Batavian  marsh."  It  is  curious  to  think  of  the 
last  and  stoutest  defender  of  the  Stuarts  helping  to  bring  about 
the  Revolution  of  1688. 


234  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

In  1677  Captain  Graham  was  back  in  Scotland.  He  was 
now  in  his  thirty-fifth  year,  handsome,  fearless,  a  soldier  of 
repute.  Some  knowledge  of  his  Continental  exploits  had 
preceded  him,  and  from  the  first  he  was  in  favour  in  high 
quarters.  The  Duke  of  York  commended  him  to  the  young 
Marquis  of  Montrose,  grandson  of  "  the  finest  gallant  in  the 
realm " ;  and  at  once  the  Marquis  gave  him  a  lieutenancy  in 
his  troop  of  cavalry.  This  troop  was  one  of  three,  the  others 
being  commanded  by  Atholl  and  Linlithgow,  that  had  been 
raised  by  means  of  the  odious  tax  which  the  country  people 
called  the  Cess — an  impost  which  they  paid  to  provide  the 
Government  with  the  opportunity  of  pursuing  and  spoiling 
them.  The  Cess  was  expressly  devoted  to  the  upkeep  of  an 
army  whose  work  was  the  repression  of  the  field-meetings. 
We  do  not  marvel  that  it  brought  into  the  Covenanting  camp, 
that  wind-smitten  camp  weakened  from  within  as  well  as 
from  without,  a  new  subject  of  debate.  Many  submitted  to 
the  outrageous  tax,  as  in  the  early  age  of  Christianity  the 
saints  had  rendered  to  Tiberius  and  Diocletian  the  things 
which  were  Caesar's.  But  the  sterner  spirits  rebelled.  They 
reasoned  that,  if  they  paid  an  unjust  exaction,  they  connived 
at  the  injustice.  Our  hearts  bleed  for  them,  beset  by  enemies, 
and  vexed  by  the  questions  which  inflame  friend  against 
friend. 

To  this  state  of  things  Claverhouse  returned,  and  in  it 
he  soon  took  a  principal's  share.  For,  after  he  had  been 
Montrose's  lieutenant  for  eight  or  ten  months,  he  received, 
about  the  end  of  1678,  a  commission  of  his  own.  In  charge 
of  a  company  of  dragoons,  he  was  sent  to  Dumfriesshire,  to 
deal  in  all  rigour  with  the  dogged  people  who  persisted  in 
attending  the  conventicles.  It  was  not  the  most  honourable 
employment  for  one  who  had  carried  his  white  plume  so 
proudly ;  but  he  girded  himself  for  its  performance  with 
promptitude.  At  first,  indeed,  he  is  a  precisian ;  he  will  not 
transgress  by  a  hair's-breadth  the  limits  mapped  out  for  him. 
Some  Covenanting  ladies  have  put  up  a  little  meeting-house, 
and  it  would  afford  him  much  satisfaction  to  pull  it  to  pieces ; 
but  it  stands  just  across  the  Nith,  on  that  side  of  the  stream 


CLAVERS  IN  A'  HIS  PRIDE  235 

where  his  commission  has  no  validity,  and  he  must  leave  the 
congenial  task  of  destruction  to  others.  Soon  he  is  Deputy- 
Sheriff  of  the  county,  and  then  he  uses  more  freedom.  This 
appointment,  however,  offends  Lord  Queensberry,  the  chief 
landowner  of  the  shire;  and  the  jealousy  between  Claver- 
house  and  the  influential  nobleman  has  its  commencement 
— a  jealousy  which  increases  in  keenness  as  the  years  go  on. 
These  were  John  Graham's  occupations  during  the  first  five 
months  of  1679. 

Then  he  found  himself  suddenly  at  one  of  the  critical 
moments  of  his  history,  although  a  moment  which  he  could 
not  recall  with  any  pride.  But,  before  we  describe  it, 
let  us  leap  over  an  interval  of  years,  that  we  may  glance 
at  some  events  which  help  to  unravel  the  character  of  the 
man. 

One  was  his  acquisition  of  the  estate  of  Dudhope — 
Dudhope,  whose  fields  he  was  eager  to  add  to  the  ancestral 
acres  of  Claverhouse.  The  transaction  shows  unpleasantly 
enough  the  strain  of  selfishness  and  rapacity  in  his  disposition. 
The  property  belonged  to  Charles  Maitland,  Lauderdale's 
brother  and  heir ;  but  he  was  charged  with  peculation  in  his 
office  of  Governor  of  the  Mint,  and,  having  been  tried  and 
condemned,  had  to  submit  to  the  loss  of  many  of  his 
possessions.  Graham  desired  the  land  which  lay  so  near  his 
own ;  but  how  was  he  to  secure  it  ?  He  knew  that  Queens- 
berry  hankered  after  a  dukedom;  and,  although  he  had  no 
particle  of  love  for  him,  he  so  importuned  Charles  on  his 
behalf  that  the  King  bestowed  the  longed-for  title ;  and  thus 
one  powerful  helper  was  gained.  He  knew  that  the  Earl  of 
Aberdeen,  President  of  the  Court  of  Session,  was  in  need  of 
money ;  and  he  took  care  that  his  Lordship's  wants  were  in  a 
measure  supplied ;  and  so  a  second  henchman  was  won.  It 
required  the  intrigues  and  labours  of  a  year  and  a  half  before 
the  goal  was  reached;  but  he  attained  it,  and  Dudhope 
became  his  own.  It  is  not  an  incident  which  enhances  our 
respect  for  him. 

Still  more  characteristic  is  the  story  of  his  marriage.     It 
was  celebrated  in  June  1684.     The  bride  was  the  Lady  Jane 


236  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Cochrane,  of  the  famous  Ayrshire  house  of  Dundonald.  She 
had  a  widowed  mother,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  CassilHs,  who 
was  staunch  in  her  adhesion  to  the  Covenant.  We  do  not 
wonder  that  this  mother  was  opposed  to  the  match,  nor  yet 
that  the  courtship  excited  surprise  and  suspicion  amongst 
the  Koyalists,  who  marvelled  that  their  champion  should  seek 
a  spouse  from  the  Whigs.  But  he  did  not  understand  what  it 
is  to  turn  aside  from  his  path.  He  went  steadily  forward, 
encouraged,  we  may  hope,  by  the  affection  of  his  sweetheart. 
"  For  my  own  part,"  he  declared,  "  I  look  upon  myself 
as  a  cleanser.  I  may  cure  people  guilty  of  that  plague 
of  Presbytery  by  conversing  with  them ;  but  I  cannot  be 
infected.  And  for  the  young  lady  herself,  I  shall  answer  for 
her.  Had  she  not  been  right  principled,  she  would  never,  in 
despite  of  her  mother  and  relations,  have  made  choice  of  a 
persecutor,  as  they  call  me."  So  Jean  Cochrane  was  mated 
with  "  the  wicked-witted  bloodthirsty  Graham  " —  a  husband 
of  whom,  in  the  stormy  years  which  ensued,  she  was  to  see 
very  little.  But  the  benediction  had  scarcely  been  spoken, 
when  tidings  came  of  a  new  conventicle ;  and  the  bridegroom, 
who  had  said  a  day  or  two  before  that  he  would  let  the  world 
see  how  it  was  "  not  in  the  power  of  love,  nor  any  other  folly, 
to  alter  his  loyalty,"  rode  away  immediately  from  his  wife  to 
chase  the  "  rogues "  and  "  dogs "  over  the  moors.  "  They 
might  have  let  Tuesday  pass,"  he  wrote  to  the  Lord  President. 
But,  in  truth,  he  preferred  boot  and  saddle,  and  the  hunt  of 
the  Covenanters  up  hill  and  down  dale,  to  the  quieter  joys 
which  marriage  and  home  could  offer.  His  bride  must  not 
expect  the  allegiance  he  kept  for  his  King. 

No,  nor  must  his  God.  And  yet,  although  Charles  Stuart 
was  first  and  last,  God  had  his  inferior  place.  Claverhouse 
was  scrupulous  in  his  religious  observances.  After  his  death, 
an  old  Presbyterian  lady,  who  had  lodged  below  him  in 
Edinburgh,  told  one  of  his  friends  of  her  astonishment  to 
discover  that  a  man  of  his  reputation  and  profession  was 
regular  in  the  practice  of  his  devotions.  Doubtless  there 
was  cause  for  surprise  ;  but  the  vagaries  and  the  contradictions 
of  our  humanity  are  infinite.    Robert  Burton  discusses,  in  one  of 


CLAVERS  IN  A'  HIS  PRIDE  237 

his  captivating  chapters,  the  "  divers  symptoms  and  occasions  " 
of  hypocrisy.  "Some  deny  there  is  any  God;  some  confess, 
yet  believe  it  not ;  a  third  sort  confess  and  believe,  but  will 
not  live  after  His  laws,  worship  and  obey  Him ;  others  allow 
God  and  gods  subordinate."  We  do  not  break  the  queenly 
rule  of  charity,  if  we  classify  John  Graham  among  that  third 
sort,  who  at  once  confess  and  disobey. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THOSE  THAT  WERE  STOUT  OF  HEART  ARE  SPOILED. 

SINCE  his  return  to  Scotland,  Claverhouse  had  accompHshed 
nothing  very  notable.  But,  in  the  beginning  of  May 
1679,  the  Archbishop  was  assassinated;  and  now  stirring 
events  were  crowded  thick  and  fast — events  in  which  Graham 
was  a  prominent  actor.  On  the  29th  of  the  month,  the  town 
of  Eutherglen  witnessed  one  of  them.  A  body  of  armed  men, 
numbering  seventy  or  eighty,  entered  the  streets.  Their 
leader  was  Sir  Robert  Hamilton,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  more 
soon;  with  him  rode  John  Balfour  of  Burley  and  James 
Russel,  two  of  the  instigators  of  the  deed  of  blood  done 
on  Magus  Moor.  It  was  the  King's  Restoration  Day,  and 
a  bonfire  blazed  in  the  main  thoroughfare.  The  visitors 
extinguished  the  flames;  and  then,  proceeding  to  the  Town 
Cross,  they  read  a  Declaration  which  condemned  the  conduct 
of  the  Government  since  1660.  Lighting  a  fire  of  their  own, 
they  burned  the  Acts  of  Parliament  and  Privy  Council,  which 
for  nineteen  years  had  been  launched  against  the  Covenanted 
Reformation;  and,  having  finished  the  task  for  which  they 
came,  they  withdrew.  Honest  men  many  of  them  were, 
though  driven  to  extremity  by  the  excesses  of  the  hour. 
But  they  could  not  hope  that  their  daring  deed  would  escape 
the  notice  of  the  civil  and  military  rulers  of  the  land.  John 
Graham  was  at  Falkirk ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  rumour  of  what 
had  happened  reached  his  ears,  he  set  out  to  avenge  the 
affront.  On  the  road  he  seized  John  King,  Presbyterian 
chaplain  to  Lord  Cardross,  and,  along  with  him,  some  fourteen 
others.  Two  and  two  he  tied  them  together,  and  drove  them 
on  before  his  troop  of  horse. 

But  affairs  took  a   turn  which   he   had   not   anticipated. 

238 


THE  STOUT  OF  HEART  ARE  SPOILED  239 

Having  halted  for  the  night  at  Strathaven,  and  finding  that 
there  were  stories  in  the  air  about  a  field-preaching  to  be 
held  not  far  away,  "  I  thought " — he  wrote  to  the  Earl  of 
Linlithgow — "  that  we  might  mak  a  litle  tour  to  see  if  we 
could  fall  upon  a  conventicle  " :  which,  he  adds  shamefacedly 
enough,  "  we  did,  litle  to  our  advantadge."  The  place  of 
meeting  was  a  gentle  slope,  overlooked  by  the  larger  mass  of 
Loudoun  Hill.  At  the  foot  of  the  slope  the  moorland  became 
a  swamp,  through  which  a  stream  made  its  way,  its  sides 
fringed  with  stunted  bushes.  It  was  Sabbath  morning,  the 
1st  of  June ;  and  from  different  districts  of  the  west  the 
crowd  had  gathered,  to  hear  God's  Word.  Thomas  Douglas 
was  to  be  preacher;  but  scarcely  had  he  commenced  the 
services  of  the  day,  when  the  signal  gun,  the  token  of  alarm, 
was  fired  by  a  watchman  on  a  neighbouring  height.  Claver- 
house  was  approaching  from  the  east,  and  listening  had  to 
yield  meanwhile  to  the  ruder  work  of  fighting.  There  was 
no  disorder.  Those  who  had  weapons  separated  themselves 
quietly  from  the  rest,  counselling  their  friends  to  secure  their 
own  safety  as  best  they  could.  "  When  we  came  in  sight  of 
them,"  their  enemy  says,  spelling  his  words  with  eccentric 
individuality,  "  we  found  them  drawen  up  in  batell  upon  a 
most  advantagious  ground,  to  which  there  was  no  coming  but 
throgh  moses  and  lotkess" — mosses  and  lochs,  the  captain 
means.  "  They  wer  not  preaching,  and  had  sat  away  all  their 
weomen  and  shildring."  In  fine,  the  Covenanters  were 
girding  themselves,  soldier-like,  for  the  duty  in  front. 

Sir  Robert  Hamilton  was  there  with  his  Rutherglen 
bodyguard.  The  other  officers  were  the  veteran  Henry  Hall 
of  Haughhead,  and  the  young  William  Cleland  of  Douglas, 
and  two  men  whom  we  have  met  before,  John  Balfour  with 
his  oblique  eyes  and  fierce  aspect,  and  David  Hackston  of 
Eathillet.  How  many  had  they  under  their  command  ? 
Royalist  writers,  anxious  to  condone  the  rout  of  their  hero, 
have  numbered  them  by  thousands ;  and  it  is  certain  that, 
within  a  few  weeks,  the  army  grew  to  considerable  proportions. 
But  there  is  no  real  reason  for  questioning  the  accuracy  of 
VVodrow's    figures  —  figures    which     Dr.     Hill    Burton    and 


240  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Professor  Hume  Brown  have  accepted.  Forty  horsemen, 
fifty  footmen  who  carried  guns,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty 
equipped  with  antiquated  halberts  or  with  the  long  pitchforks 
used  in  the  labours  of  the  farm :  that,  we  may  believe,  was  the 
extent  of  the  tiny  force.  The  other  side  was  no  larger.  Man 
for  man,  the  two  parties  would  have  appeared  to  an  onlooker 
to  be  almost  equally  matched.  The  King's  troops  had  the 
advantage  in  arms  and  ammunition.  But  the  defenders  of  the 
Covenant  had  the  better  preparation  of  religion  and  faith  and 
the  assurance  that  they  fought  for  the  honour  of  Jesus  Christ. 
While  the  combatants  face  each  other,  we  may  make  the 
acquaintance  of  one  of  the  captains  of  the  Whigs.  William 
Cleland  is  little  more  than  a  boy,  having  been  born,  where  the 
Douglas  Water  comes  down  from  Cairntable,  in  the  year  after 
His  Majesty's  Eestoration.  But  such  confidence  have  the 
older  men  in  his  skill  and  bravery  that,  on  this  day  of  battle, 
they  have  given  him  the  direction  of  the  best  of  their  foot- 
soldiers.  An  interesting  figure  he  is,  student  of  St.  Andrews, 
bosom-friend  of  the  young  Lord  Angus,  Christian  whom  the 
field-meetings  that  he  loves  have  made  "  very  sober  and  pious," 
and  poet  to  boot,  writing  verses  which  sometimes  scintillate 
with  humour  and  sometimes  peal  and  flash  with  indignation. 
In  his  rhymes,  as  in  everything  else,  he  is  the  patriot  through 
and  through.  He  will  not  drink  of  Castaly,  nor  set  himself 
to  learn  "  ^olian  charms  and  Dorian  lyric  odes." 

For  I  am  very  apt  to  think 
There's  as  much  virtue,  seuse,  and  pith 
In  Annan  or  the  Water  of  Nith, 
Which  quietly  slips  by  Dumfries, 
As  any  water  in  all  Greece. 

You  perceive  William  Cleland  in  his  imaginative  mood,  light- 
hearted,  with  eyes  awake  to  all  the  sights  and  happenings 
around  him,  in  lines  like  these — 

Fain  would  I  know 

If  beasts  have  any  reason, 
If  falcons,  killing  eagles, 

Do  commit  a  treason. 
If  fear  of  winter's  want 

Makes  swallows  fly  the  season. 

Hollo,  my  fancy  !  whither  wilt  thou  go  ? 


THE  STOUT  OF  HEART  ARE  SPOILED  241 

You  discover  him  serious,  sarcastic  and  angry,  a  keen 
watcher  of  public  events,  a  born  warrior  who  can  appraise 
the  fighting  qualities  of  others,  in  his  Hudibrastic  recital 
of  the  "  Expedition  of  the  Highland  Host."  He  draws,  with 
caustic  force,  the  portrait  of  this  persecutor  and  of  that.  There 
is  Lauderdale,  who  is  the  more  fatal  a  foe  to  Presbytery 
because  he  was  bred  within  its  walls :  "  He  kens  weel  how  to 
loose  their  knots,  for  he  was  once  in  all  their  plots."  There 
is  her  Grace  the  Duchess,  who  has  tied  her  husband  to  her 
apron-strings,  so  that  they  are  never  apart — 

To  leave  her  east  would  not  be  right  ; 
She'll  weary  on  a  winter  night. 
To  bring  her  west  would  mend  but  little  ; 
For  Hielant  lairds  are  very  kittle. 

There,  too,  is  Sharp,  eager  to  "  cleanse  the  Kirk  with  sword  and 
dagger" — Sharp,  who  never  has  any  leisure:  "he's  troubled 
with  so  many  cases  of  conscience,  which  he's  still  dissecting." 
William  Cleland  is  only  a  lad  in  years ;  but  the  perils  of  the 
time  have  made  a  man  of  him,  in  shrewdness,  in  insight,  in 
courage.  We  are  not  surprised  to  see  him  in  command  of 
his  troop  on  the  1st  of  June,  when  the  Covenanters  have 
resolved,  "for  the  relief  of  the  prisoners,  their  own  defence, 
and  the  defence  of  the  Gospel,  to  put  their  lives  in  venture, 
and,  through  the  Lord's  assistance,  to  go  to  meet  the 
enemy." 

The  contest  had  a  dramatic  prelude.  Down  the  face  of 
the  slope  the  Covenanters  advanced,  singing  the  familiar 
verses  of  one  of  the  Scottish  metrical  psalms,  the  seventy- 
sixth,  to  the  fine  old  tune,  as  tradition  relates,  of  Martyrs. 
They  were  kindling  words  which  rang  out  in  the  resonant 
bass  of  two  hundred  and  forty  strong-throated  and  stroncr- 
souled  men — 

In  Judah's  land  God  is  well  known, 

His  name's  in  Israel  great  ; 
In  Salem  is  His  tabernacle. 

In  Sion  is  His  seat. 
There  arrows  of  the  bow  He  brake, 

The  shield,  the  sword,  the  war. 
More  glorious  Thou  than  hills  of  prey, 

More  excellent  art  far. 
16 


242  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Those  that  were  stout  of  heart  are  spoiled, 

They  slept  their  sleep  outright ; 
And  none  of  those  their  hands  did  find 

That  were  the  men  of  might. 

The  battle  was  half-won  which  could  be  introduced  by  a  song 
so  confident  and  unafraid. 

At  the  foot  of  the  rising  ground  was  the  morass,  and  just  on 
the  other  side  Claverhouse  was  ranged  with  his  troopers.  The 
Eoyalists  fired  first,  and  from  across  the  swamp  the  Covenanters 
answered.  But  the  skirmish  of  musketry  was  a  mere  pre- 
liminary. Graham  was  resolved  to  lead  his  followers  over  the 
marshy  ground,  and  to  engage  the  adversary  at  close  quarters. 
He  sent  some  horsemen  to  discover  a  shallow  and  well-bottomed 
place,  where  a  passage  might  be  effected.  It  was  a  mistaken 
move.  The  horses  staggered  and  stumbled  in  the  treacherous 
bog,  and  a  volley  from  the  enemy  emptied  many  saddles. 
Then  the  men  of  the  Covenant  had  their  opportunity.  They 
knew  the  morass  better  than  their  opponents.  Burley  with 
his  cavalry,  Cleland  with  his  homely  infantry,  were  through 
the  swamp  and  grappling  with  their  foes,  almost  before  the 
dragoons  understood  what  they  meant  to  be  at.  Their  fire 
brought  down  Cornet  Crawford  and  Captain  Blyth.  The 
suddenness  of  their  onset  overwhelmed  the  others.  Claver- 
house saw  his  soldiers  reel  and  turn  and  flee.  His  own  charger, 
a  gallant  sorrel,  was  hurt  fatally  with  a  pitchfork,  so  that,  in 
the  rider's  forcible  language,  "  his  guts  hung  out  half  an  elle, 
yet  he  caryed  me  of  an  myl,"  before  he  sank  exhausted  and 
dead.  The  day  was  lost  for  the  persecutor,  and  was  gained  by 
the  persecuted.  "  They  perseud  us  so  hotly,"  the  discomfited 
commander  reports,  "  that  we  got  no  tym  to  ragly.  I  saved 
the  standarts,  but  lost  on  the  place  about  aight  ord  ten  men, 
beseids  wounded ;  but  the  dragoons  lost  many  mor."  Sir 
Robert  Hamilton,  it  was  said,  would  have  dealt  summarily  with 
the  captured  cavaliers ;  but  he  had  colleagues  who  happily 
were  more  merciful  than  he  was,  and  no  life  was  sacrificed. 
The  triumph  of  Drumclog  was  not  sullied,  as  triumphs  too 
frequently  have  been,  by  acts  of  barbarity. 

Over  hill  and  moor  King  Charles's  troopers  fled,  followed  by 


THE  STOUT  OF  HEART  ARE  SPOILED  243 

those  who  had  achieved  a  success  so  amazing  over  "  the  shield, 
the  sword,  the  war."  The  chase  was  kept  up  for  miles.  Pass- 
ing the  spot  where  Lord  Car  dross's  chaplain  sat,  Claverhouse 
was  invited  by  his  prisoner  of  the  morning  to  tarry  for  the 
afternoon  sermon.  But  neither  captain  nor  guardsmen  had 
any  thought  of  lingering.  At  Strathaven  the  inhabitants, 
whose  sympathies  were  with  the  victors,  would  fain  have 
stopped  the  progress  of  the  Eoyalists ;  but  most  of  the  men  of 
the  place,  able  to  bear  sword  and  gun,  were  away ;  and  the 
Hying  soldiers  went  galloping  at  great  speed  up  the  village 
street,  and  out  at  the  farther  end.  On  they  clattered,  a  chafed 
and  dispirited  band,  who  had  renounced  every  trace  of  the 
bravery  with  which  they  had  ridden  along  the  same  roads  some 
hours  earlier.  At  length  they  reached  Glasgow,  where  Lord 
Eoss  and  his  regiment  lay,  and  where  at  their  leisure  they 
could  rehearse  to  their  friends  their  surprising  experience. 

Five  or  six  of  the  Covenanters  received  their  death-wound 
in  the  sharp,  short  struggle  at  Drumclog.  Among  them  was 
William  Daniel,  one  of  those  unappeasable  men  who,  a  month 
before,  had  helped  in  the  slaughter  of  the  Archbishop.  He 
lived  for  twenty-four  hours  after  the  battle,  and  "  was  in  a 
rapture  of  joy  all  that  day."  Before  the  fight  began,  he  had 
"  freely  offered  himself  in  prayer  to  seal  the  truth,  but  especi- 
ally the  controverted  truth,  with  his  blood ;  and,  after  prayer, 
he  was  made  to  praise  in  the  time  of  action."  As  fast  as  he 
could  himself  return  from  pursuing  the  enemy,  James  Russel 
hurried  back  to  him,  where  he  lay  on  the  margin  of  those 
waters  which  are  "  to  the  palate  bitter  and  to  the  stomach 
cold."  "  Dear  brother  Will,"  he  asked,  "  ye  have  many  times 
told  me  ye  was  sure  enough  of  heaven ;  have  ye  any  doubts 
now  V  The  dying  man  could  scarcely  speak  ;  in  a  whisper  he 
replied,  "  No  doubts,  but  fully  assured — fully  assured  !  "  We 
think  of  the  French  enthusiast  who,  on  the  very  edge  of  shame- 
ful death,  declared  that  his  soul  was  "  a  garden,  full  of  shelter 
and  of  fountains."  He  and  his  brother  of  Magus  Moor  and 
Drumclog  did  unwarrantable  things ;  but  who  will  deny  that 
they  knew  the  secret  of  the  Lord  ? 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

GLOOM  AFTER  GLEAM. 

IN  The  Grammar  of  Assent,  Newman,  speaking  of  the  magic 
of  Virgil's  style,  refers  to  "  his  pathetic  half-lines,"  which 
give  expression  to  that  sense  of  pain  and  weariness  experi- 
enced by  men  in  every  age  and  land.  0  passi  graviora — ;  Dis 
aliter  visum — ;  Di,  si  qua  est  ccelo  inetas —  ;  Heu  vatum  ignarm 
mentes — :  in  such  broken  utterances,  charged  with  emotion 
through  their  very  brevity,  the  great  Mantuan  shows  how 
clearly  he  perceived,  and  how  profoundly  he  felt,  the  burdens 
and  mysteries  and  toils  of  our  human  life.  It  is  as  if  he 
could  not  enlarge  on  the  theme,  nor  unfold  more  leisurely  the 
thoughts  which  arise  in  him.  He  is  choked  by  an  intensity 
of  sorrow,  and  is  compelled  to  stop  midway. 

There  are  pathetic  half-lines  in  history  as  well  as  in  literature. 
A  career  from  which  we  hoped  much  is  suddenly  checked ;  its 
passion  leaves  the  ground  to  lose  itself  in  the  sky ;  and,  al- 
though the  music  may  be  God's  more  unreservedly  than  before, 
the  conviction  of  loss,  and  the  disappointment  which  the  con- 
viction brings,  abide  with  us.  Or  a  movement,  after  momentary 
success,  is  overtaken  by  catastrophe.  We  were  interested  in 
its  prosperity.  We  pictured  it  going  from  strength  to  strength. 
But  nodes  atque  dies  2^atet  atri  Janua  Ditis,  and  the  eclipse 
comes,  and  at  noon  the  sun  goes  down.  There  are  tears  in  our 
souls  for  the  shattered  hope,  and  the  irretrievable  blow,  and 
the  enterprise  snapped  and  left  in  ruins. 

After  the  Sabbath  day  on  which  they  sent  Claverhouse 
flying  at  Drumclog,  the  Covenanters  knew  that  they  must 
hold  together,  because  their  enemies  would  muster  soon  to 
punish   them.     They  grew  rapidly  in  numbers ;   for   there  is 


GLOOM  AFTER  GLEAM  245 

a  contagion  in  victory.  Within  three  weeks  the  two  hundred 
and  fifty  had  multipHed  into  a  legion  of  between  five  and  six 
thousand,  an  army  with  which  memorable  feats  might  easily 
have  been  accomplished.  Probably  the  ultimate  issues  of  the 
campaign  were  never  in  doubt ;  the  soldiers  of  the  Kirk  could 
not  vanquish  the  overwhelming  forces  which  the  King  was 
able  to  send  against  them.  But,  for  months,  they  might  have 
maintained  a  guerilla  war,  and,  in  the  end,  have  extorted  from 
their  persecutors  terms  which  were  not  unfavourable.  The 
radiance  which  broke  over  them  at  Loudoun  Hill,  like  a  gleam 
of  light  bursting  through  a  bank  of  cloud,  might  have  increased 
until  the  cloud  was  dispelled.  They  were  themselves  to  blame 
that  the  result  was  mournfully  different.  Their  foes  on  this 
occasion  were  not  Charles  Stuart,  and  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale, 
and  General  Dalzell,  and  John  Graham ;  they  were  the  men 
of  their  own  household. 

The  little  band  of  fighters  had  pursued  their  adversaries 
right  up  to  the  gates  of  Glasgow.     They  had  allies  within  the 
walls ;  and,  if  they  could  have  effected  an  entrance,  the  likeli- 
hood is  that  Claverhouse  must  have  prolonged  his  flight  towards 
Edinburgh  and  the  east.     But  they  were  few,  and  worn  with 
the  battle  and  the  chase;  and  the  King  had   a  considerable 
garrison  in  the  town.     They  deemed  it  wise  to  call  a  halt,  and 
to  return  to  the  friends  whom  they  had   left   at   Drumclog. 
Then,  for   some  time,  there  were  marchings  to  and  fro;  and 
they  encamped  now  in  one  place  and  now  in  another.     Com- 
rades joined  them  every  day,  from  Ayrshire,  from  Eenfrew, 
from  Lanark,  from  Stirling  in  the  north,  and  Galloway  in  the 
south.     Soon  they  were  so  formidable,  that  the  rebellion  began 
to  trouble  the  authorities  not  only  in  Holyrood,  but  in  White- 
hall.    But  they  kept  Sir  Robert  Hamilton  in  the  chief  com- 
mand ;  and  in  that  fact  there  lay  the  presage  of  calamity  and 
gloom. 

It  is  time  that  we  studied  the  spiritual  features  of  this 
man.  The  witnesses  to  the  reality  and  depth  of  his  personal 
Christianity  are  many  and  trustworthy.  Plainly,  One  was  his 
Master,  even  Christ.  He  gives  himself  an  involuntary  testi- 
mony to  his  citizenship  in  tlie  Heavenlies,  in  tho8e  private 


246  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

letters  of  consolation  that  he  wrote  to  friends  in  trouble. 
They  tell  us,  as  Mr.  Hill  Burton  says,  that  he  "  had  his 
tendernesses,"  and  that  these  were  "  peculiarly  rich  and  over- 
flowing." But  he  had  his  narrownesses  and  antipathies  as  well, 
and  they  travelled  beyond  the  boundaries  both  of  charity  and 
of  reason.  He  could  not  brook  the  presence  of  anyone,  who 
failed  to  see  each  of  the  many  facets  of  truth  from  the  same 
angle  as  himself.  He  was  willing  to  suffer  rather  than  swerve 
from  this  morbid  conscientiousness.  At  a  later  period,  he 
would  not  return  from  exile  in  Holland  to  take  possession  of 
his  estate  of  Preston,  simply  because  he  could  swear  no  oath 
of  loyalty  to  William  and  Mary.  Thus  his  scrupulosity 
inflicted  injury  on  himself.  But  the  pity  was  that  an  exclusive- 
ness  so  rigid  did  infinite  harm  to  others,  and  wrecked  the 
army  of  the  Covenant. 

The  Indulgence  was  the  trouble.     Sir  Eobert   Hamilton, 
purist  as  he  was,  abhorred  it  and  its  authors  and  the  conse- 
quences it  had  brought  about.     But,  if  this  had  been  all,  nobody 
among  the  six  thousand  Covenanters  would  have  quarrelled 
with   him.     He   pushed  his  contention   to  extremer  lengths. 
Not  only  did  he  refuse  to  hold  intercourse  with  the  ministers 
who  had  gone  back  to  their  parishes,  and  with  the  congregations 
tolerant  enough  to  hearken  to  them,  but  he  shut  out  from  his 
fellowship  those  who,  while  themselves  disapproving  of  the 
Indulgence,  were  not  prepared  to  ostracise  the  weaker  brethren 
to   whom  it   had   seemed   a   boon.     He   insisted   that   these 
mediating   and   kindly   souls  were  guilty  of   laxity  and   sin. 
God,  he  held  and  proclaimed,  could  never  give  His  benediction 
to  a  fighting  force,  which  embraced  within  its  ranks  men  who 
would   deal   gently  with   unfaithfulness,  and  would  eat   and 
drink   with   traitors.     They  must  be  clean  who  carried   His 
vessels   and   wrestled   for   His  truth.     Such  was  Hamilton's 
untenable   creed.     For   its  justification,  he  would  point  back 
to  the  example  of  the  Protesters  in  denouncing   the  Public 
Kesolutions.     But  he  went  far  beyond  Eutherfurd  and  Guthrie. 
It  was  against  the  participation  in  the  work  of  the  Lord  of 
actual  Malignants,  King's  votaries  without  admixture,  that  the 
Protesters   lifted   their    voices;   they   said    no    word    against 


GLOOM  AFTER  GLEAM  247 

bearing  and  forbearing  with  brothers  who  fell  short  of  their 
own  standard.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  they  would  have 
commended  a  strictness  to  which  theirs  was  as  moonlight  unto 
sunlight. 

Sir  Eobert  Hamilton  was  head  and  chief  of  this  old  Hard 
Church,  if  one  may  borrow  Mr.  R  H.  Hutton's  pregnant 
phrase  :  the  Hard  Church,  which  "  believes  in  a  Hard  Master," 
which  "  thinks  that  it  is  not  the  endurance,  but  the  infliction 
of  hardness  that  makes  a  true  soldier  of  Christ,"  which  walks 
about  like  "  a  theological  detective,  without  any  care  or  com- 
passion for  the  sins  of  the  defaulters  it  arrests."  Yet  there 
were  other  leaders  whose  opinions  agreed  with  his.  Hackston 
and  Henry  Hall  and  William  Cleland,  Thomas  Douglas  the 
preacher  too,  were,  almost  but  not  altogether,  of  one  mind  with 
their  unbending  captain.  Perhaps  Major  Learmont  and  John 
Paton  of  Meadowhead,  those  stout  soldiers  who  had  fought 
with  such  spirit  at  Pentland,  leaned  to  the  same  drastic  side ; 
but,  if  they  did — and  there  is  doubt  about  the  former — they 
were  not  loud-tongued  and  insistent  in  promulgating  their 
tenets.  And  there  were  good  men,  ready  to  contend  to  the 
death  for  Christ's  Crown  and  Covenant,  whose  sympathies 
were  wider.  There  was  James  Ure  of  Shargarton,  for  instance, 
a  gentleman  of  Perthshire,  who,  prompted  by  deep  con- 
viction, had  left  Episcopacy  for  Presbytery,  and  who  now 
brought  to  the  aid  of  the  blue  banner  a  troop  of  volunteers 
from  the  northern  counties.  And  there  was  John  Welsh, 
our  brave  field-preacher,  who  came  from  Dumfriesshire  to  the 
camp.  He  had  never  tampered  with  the  Indulgence.  Dear 
as  were  the  memories  of  the  kirk  of  Irongray,  he  would  not 
wound  conscience  by  re-entering  it  through  the  favour  and 
patronage  of  Government.  But  yet  he  could  not  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  excommunicate  those  who  were  not  so  stalwart  as  he 
was  himself ;  he  would  not  say  that  they  had  erred  unpardon- 
ably  when  they  returned  to  the  pulpits  for  which  they 
felt  an  inextinguishable  affection.  Because  these  were  the 
thoughts  he  cherished  and  avowed,  Sir  Eobert  Hamilton  and 
his  disciples  were  angry  with  John  Welsh,  and  would  have 
sent  him  away.     Like  Tertullian  and    the   Montanists,  they 


248  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

would  have  no  association,  however  indirect,  with  heresy  and 
lapse  and  compromise. 

For  weeks  the  wretched  debate  went  on  between  men 
who  should  have  been  of  one  spirit  and  one  step.  Every 
new  band  of  helpers,  as  it  arrived,  was  compelled  to  declare 
itself  for  the  party  of  rigour  or  for  that  of  comprehension ; 
there  was  no  neutral  zone,  no  golden  mean,  no  permission 
to  see  the  truth  on  both  sides.  The  army  determined,  at 
one  stage,  to  draw  up  a  manifesto — a  "  Declaration  "  was  the 
word  of  the  time.  But  over  this  the  leaders  quarrelled : 
Hamilton  and  his  intimates  demanding  that  the  document 
should  contain  a  definite  repudiation  of  the  Indulgence ;  the 
others  answering  that  "  neither  were  we  a  Parliament  nor  a 
General  Assembly "  to  judge  such  matters,  and  that,  "  if  we 
meddled  with  them,  it  would  hinder  many  to  come  who  would 
be  as  willing  as  we,  and  would  make  friends  to  become 
enemies."  There  were  moments  when  the  strife  grew 
acrimonious,  and  hot  words  were  spoken.  "We  told  them," 
says  James  Ure  in  his  narrative,  "  they  were  more  taken  up 
with  other  men's  sins  than  they  were  with  their  own,  and  that 
it  was  our  duty  first  to  begin  with  ourselves."  Again,  on 
Sabbath  the  15th,  when  on  Hamilton  Moor  the  ministers  were 
about  to  preach  to  the  soldiers,  and  when  Sir  Eobert  required 
that  in  the  sermons  the  Indulgence  should  be  condemned  with 
no  bated  breath,  "we  told  them  that  it  w^as  the  height  of 
supremacy  to  give  instructions  to  ministers  what  to  preach ; 
we  would  hear  no  such  doctrine."  More  than  once  the 
moderate  men  were  on  the  eve  of  leaving;  it  needed  John 
Welsh's  eloquence  and  the  near  approach  of  the  common 
enemy  to  prevent  them  from  departing  in  heartache  and 
despair.  "  For  aught  that  we  saw,"  they  complained,  "  we 
were  come  here  to  fight  among  ourselves."  What  a  sorrow's 
crown  of  sorrow  it  all  is  ! 

Meanwhile  their  doom  drew  closer  to  them.  From  London 
a  large  force  had  been  despatched;  and,  when  this  was  added 
to  the  Scottish  contingents,  the  Koyalists  numbered  about 
fifteen  thousand  horse  and  foot.  The  young  Duke  of 
Monmouth,    Charles's   son   and   favourite,   had  the   principal 


THK   TOLBOOTH   OF   GLASGOW, 


GLOOM  AFTER  GLEAM  249 

command.  He  was  popular  for  his  good  looks,  his  courtesy, 
his  Protestantism,  although  the  Protestantism  was  neither 
very  intelligent  nor  very  ardent.  He  was  disposed,  too, 
to  lenient  courses;  it  was  an  encouraging  omen  for  the 
Covenanters  that  he  received  the  first  place,  and  that  Dalzell 
had  to  be  content  with  standing  second.  Many  of  them  were 
inclined  to  negotiate  with  Monmouth;  and,  though  the 
extremists  resisted  the  proposal,  they  managed  to  carry  their 
point.  Another  Sabbath  had  come  round,  the  third  since 
Drumclog.  Soon  after  daybreak  two  envoys  went  to  interview 
the  Duke.  He  gave  them  a  not  vmkindly  welcome,  and  listened 
while  they  read  the  Declaration  of  some  days  before.  Then  he 
answered  that  their  petition  ought  to  have  been  worded  in 
humbler  terms,  but  that,  if  they  were  willing  to  lay  down  their 
arms,  he  had  no  intention  to  deal  harshly.  They  returned  to 
their  comrades,  to  report  how  they  had  fared.  But  the  proviso 
about  disarming  was  a  fatal  obstacle.  Sir  Robert  Hamilton 
laughed  loudly  when  he  heard  it.  "  Yes,  and  hang  next ! "  he 
said.     Manifestly  the  strife  must  be  fought  out  to  the  end. 

The  combatants  confronted  each  other  on  opposite  banks 
of  the  Clyde.  Between  them  was  the  old  and  steep  and 
narrow  Bridge  of  Bothwell,  not  more  than  twelve  feet  wide, 
and  guarded  in  the  centre  with  a  gatehouse.  The  King's 
army  was  much  the  larger.  It  was  well  officered.  The  Duke  of 
Montrose  led  the  cavalry,  the  Earl  of  Linlithgow  the  infantry. 
Claverhouse  rode  at  the  head  of  his  dragoons,  and  the  Earls  of 
Home  and  Airlie  were  in  charge  of  their  respective  troops; 
Lord  Mar  held  a  command  of  foot.  Dalzell's  commission, 
much  to  his  annoyance,  was  late  in  arriving  from  London ;  and 
he  did  not  get  to  the  scene  of  action  until  everything  was 
over.  That  the  Covenanters  should  succeed  in  beating  back 
opponents  so  disciplined  and  so  superior  in  strength  was  impro- 
bable ;  but  history  records  exploits  more  arduous.  The  advan- 
tages of  position  were  with  the  Presbyterians.  If  they  could 
only  have  abandoned  their  controversies,  and  gone  to  work 
singing  the  Drumclog  Psalm,  a  new  victory  might  have  been 
theirs.  But  at  Bothwell  they  were  without  unity,  without 
buoyancy,  without  competent  generalship.     Let  us  listen  again 


250  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

to  James  Ure :  "  We  were  not  concerned  with  an  enemy,  as  if 
there  had  not  been  one  within  a  thousand  miles  of  us.  There 
were  none  went  tlirough  the  army,  to  see  if  we  wanted  powder 
and  ball.  I  do  really  think  there  were  few  or  none  that  had 
both  powder  and  ball,  to  shoot  twice."  From  such  infatuation 
nothing  could  result  but  defeat.  The  Covenanters  had  pre- 
destined themselves  to  failure  and  shame. 

There  were  some  who  did  their  best.  Ure  was  one,  ajid 
Henry  Hall  was  another ;  but  the  lionours  of  the  lamentable 
day  are  with  David  Hackston  of  Kathillet.  For  hours,  with 
three  hundred  men  of  Galloway  to  aid  him,  the  genuine  and 
great-hearted  soldier  held  the  bridge.  After  a  while,  the 
three  hundred,  wearied  with  their  vigil  and  struggle,  begged, 
not  to  be  withdrawn  but,  to  have  reinforcements  from  the 
larger  mass  behind  them ;  but  no  reinforcements  were  sent. 
Then  they  asked  for  ammunition,  and  were  told  that  the 
ammunition  was  at  an  end.  At  last  Hamilton  gave  them  the 
order  to  fall  back  upon  the  main  body.  They  obeyed  "  with 
sore  hearts,"  as  Hackston  writes ;  for  they  felt  that  the  order 
was  the  last  folly  of  this  black  and  bitter  Sabbath,  and  that 
now  their  fate  was  sealed.  The  barrier  which  hitherto  had 
hindered  its  advance  having  been  removed,  the  Eoyal  artillery 
slowly  and  steadily  crossed  the  Clyde ;  and  soon,  from  the 
same  bank  as  that  on  which  they  stood  themselves,  the  Duke's 
cannon  poured  death  into  the  lines  of  the  Whigs.  Even  yet 
the  Koyalist  triumph  might  have  been  postponed.  But  a 
panic  seized  the  Covenanters.  Numbers  of  them  fled  reck- 
lessly and  at  random.  Only  Eathillet  and  his  companions 
maintained  their  ground,  until  they  too,  seeing  that  all  was 
over,  retired  from  the  moor  in  sullen  silence.  The  rout  was 
complete.  "  Never,"  Wodrow  moralises,  "  was  a  good  cause 
and  a  gallant  army,  generally  speaking  hearty  and  bold,  worse 
managed;  and  never  will  a  cause,  though  never  so  good,  be 
better  managed  when  divisions,  disjointings,  and  self  creep  in 
among  the  managers." 

No  fewer  than  four  hundred  perished  in  the  death-chase. 
Twelve  hundred  were  taken  prisoners  ;  and  very  many  of  them 
would  have  been  massacred  in  cold  blood,  if  Monmouth  had 


GLOOM  AFTER  GLEAM  251 

not  interposed.  He  declared  emphatically  that  they  must  be 
spared,  and  he  refused  to  modify  his  injunction,  although 
Dalzell,  hurrying  to  Bothwell  Brig  some  hours  too  late  for  the 
battle,  rated  him  soundly  for  it.  We  may  doubt,  however, 
whether  the  captives  did  not  suffer  worse  pains  than  their 
brothers  emancipated  by  the  swift  anguish  of  death.  Bound 
two  and  two,  they  were  dragged  eastward  to  Edinburgh.  No 
one  on  the  wearisome  road  dared  extend  to  them  a  hand  of 
succour.  When  the  capital  was  reached,  the  mob  greeted 
them  with  the  taunt,  "  Where's  your  God  ?  where's  your 
God  ?  " — the  glib  interrogation  of  that  shallow  atheism  which 
has  no  hardihood  of  faith  to  penetrate  into  the  thick  darkness 
where  God  is.  Tw^o  of  the  ministers,  adherents  of  Welsh  rather 
than  of  Eobert  Hamilton,  were  executed  at  the  Mercat  Cross : 
John  Kid  one  of  them,  and  the  other  John  King — the  same  John 
King  whom  Claverhouse  had  captured  immediately  before 
Drumclog,  and  who  had  enjoyed  three  weeks  of  liberty  only 
to  fall  again  into  the  enemy's  clutches.  Five  Covenanters 
were  hanged  on  Magus  Moor,  though  not  one  of  them  had 
a  personal  share  in  the  death  of  the  Archbishop.  As  the 
Edinburgh  gaols  could  not  hold  the  crowd  of  other  prisoners, 
a  part  of  Greyfriars  churchyard  was  transmuted  into  a  place 
of  confinement;  and  into  it  they  were  penned  like  sheep. 
Sentinels  guarded  them  day  and  night.  They  were  exposed  to 
sun  and  rain,  wind  and  weather ;  for  there  was  no  covering 
above  their  heads — none  at  least  until,  with  the  approach  of 
winter,  some  wooden  huts  were  erected,  "  which  was  mightily 
boasted  as  a  great  favour."  Their  bed  was  the  bare  ground. 
They  were  poorly  fed,  and  it  was  next  to  impossible  for  friends 
to  convey  any  comfort  to  them.  In  this  plight  they  lived, 
like  Samson  in  Gaza,  "  a  life  half  dead,  a  living  death,  and 
buried,"  until  the  dreary  weeks  of  November,  A  few  hundreds 
had  been  freed  on  giving  their  pledge  to  desist  in  the  future 
from  armed  resistance  ;  here  and  there  one,  more  fortunate  than 
his  comrades,  had  gained  the  goodwill  of  his  gaolers ;  some 
had  contrived  to  escape  across  the  churchyard  walls ;  some 
were  dead.  Only  two  hundred  and  fifty-seven  remained  out  of 
the  twelve  hundred. 


252  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

For  these  two  hundred  and  fifty -seven,  new  distresses  and 
ignominies  were  kept.  Early  one  November  morning,  they 
were  marched  by  a  party  of  soldiers  from  the  Greyfriars  to  a 
vessel,  the  Croum,  lying  in  Leith  Eoads ;  the  Privy  Council 
had  decreed  that  they  should  be  banished  to  the  West  Indies, 
and  sold  for  slaves.  On  board  the  ship  their  pains  came  to 
a  climax.  They  were  crowded  under  deck  in  a  space  not 
sufficient  to  hold  one  hundred  people.  Those  with  some  health 
were  forced  to  continue  standing,  that  the  sick  and  dying 
might  lie  down  on  the  hard  boards.  Hour  after  hour,  in  the 
poisonous  air,  many  fainted  away.  Their  meat  was  stinted, 
and  water  was  doled  out  with  a  niggardly  hand.  "All  the 
troubles  we  met  since  Bothwell,"  one  of  them,  James  Corson, 
wrote  to  his  wife,  "  were  not  to  be  compared  to  one  day  in  our 
present  circumstances.  Our  uneasiness  is  beyond  words.  Yet 
the  consolations  of  God  overbalance  all ;  and  I  hope  we  are 
near  our  port,  and  heaven  is  open  for  us." 

Most  of  them  were  nearer  their  port  than  they  surmised, 
and  that  port  the  best ;  their  sails  "  were  set  to  reach 
Jerusalem."  Off  the  coast  of  Orkney,  in  a  night  of  tempest, 
the  captain  ran  his  vessel  close  inshore  and  cast  anchor, 
locking  and  chaining  the  hatches  over  the  prisoners  in  the  hold. 
In  the  darkness,  at  ten  o'clock,  the  ship  was  dashed  against 
the  rocks,  and  was  broken  in  two.  The  sailors  made  a  bridge 
of  the  mast  and  escaped  to  the  rough  beach ;  nearly  sixty  of 
the  Covenanters  were  able,  in  one  way  or  in  another,  to  follow 
their  example.  But  the  other  two  hundred  were  drowned, 
only  a  few  of  their  bodies  being  washed  to  the  land,  to  be 
buried  at  a  place  called  Scarvating,  where  one  may  see  the 
graves  to-day.  Was  it  a  pitiful  death  ?  Was  it  not  a  happy 
enfranchisement  ?  As  once  before  in  a  night  of  storm,  Jesus 
went  unto  them,  walking  on  the  sea,  and  saying.  It  is  I ;  he  not 
afraid. 


CHAPTER   XXllI. 

A  TEMPORAEY. 

ATEMPOKAEY — one  who  tries  year  in  and  year  out  to 
"  carry  his  dish  level,"  and  adjusts  his  sails  to  catch  the 
changing  winds,  and  on  his  own  confession  feels  much  "  fear 
of  exposing  himself  to  suffering  " :  such  was  Alexander  Brodie 
of  Brodie,  the  representative  in  Covenanting  times  of  an  old 
Scottish  family,  with  properties  lying  in  the  northern  shires 
of  Moray  and  Nairn.  A  Temporary,  whose  reservations  and 
compliances  and  abatements  are  written  with  painful  clearness 
in  his  voluminous  Diary ;  and  yet,  at  heart,  a  man  of  conscience 
and  religion.  When  he  died,  in  the  April  of  1680,  his  son 
bore  touching  testimony  to  his  worth.  "  I  have  had  the 
benefit  of  instruction,  warning,  means  of  knowledge."  "  I 
have  seen  the  godlie  conversation,  holy  and  Christian  walk 
of  a  father — his  watchfulnes,  fruitfulnes,  his  secret  com- 
munion with  God."  "  Alas  !  what  an  emptie  roum  and  place 
will  all  men  find  heir  ! "  But,  when  we  read  the  self -accusing 
Diary,  how  earnestly  we  wish  that  this  "  gentleman  of  shining 
piety  "  had  been  less  timorous,  more  independent,  caring  only 
for  the  approval  of  God,  and  paying  smaller  heed  to  the 
favour  and  the  censure  of  men !  Alexander  Brodie  stands 
inside  the  spiritual  realm ;  but  mountains  and  seas  separate 
him  from  those  more  immovable  kinsfolk  of  his  in  the  Kirk, 
of  whom  it  could  be  said,  as  the  soldiers  in  Scarborough  said 
of  George  Fox,  that  they  were  "as  stiff  as  a  tree  and  as 
pure  as  a  bell." 

He  was  a  man  of  much  repute.     Born  in  1617,  and  by  and 
by  a  student  in  the  King's  College  of  Aberdeen,  he  entered  on 

853 


254  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  possession  of  his  ancestral  lands  as  soon  as  he  came  of 
age,  for  his  father  had  died  when  he  was  himself  a  boy  in  his 
sixteenth  year.  In  1643,  he  was  chosen  to  represent  the 
county  of  Elgin  in  the  Scottish  Parliament ;  and,  season  after 
season,  he  went  up  as  ruling  elder  to  the  General  Assembly. 
In  1649,  and  again  in  1650,  he  was  one  of  the  little  band  of 
Commissioners  sent  across  the  water  to  Holland,  to  treat  with 
Charles  the  Second.  Twice  over,  in  1649  and  once  more  in 
1658,  he  took  his  seat  on  the  bench  of  the  Court  of  Session, 
and  was  greeted  everywhere  as  Lord  Brodie ;  although,  on 
the  latter  occasion,  the  office  was  accepted  "after  much 
Eesistance  and  Eeluctance."  Altogether,  even  if  he  liked 
best  to  live  quietly  in  his  northern  home,  riding  out  daily 
through  his  ample  fields,  and  adding  acre  after  acre  to  the 
family  inheritance,  Brodie  of  Brodie  was  a  conspicuous  figure 
in  his  stormy  and  perplexing  time. 

A  figure  too,  in  some  characteristics,  not  conspicuous 
merely,  but  admirable.  In  the  portrait  which  he  paints  for  us 
of  himself,  we  read,  for  one  thing,  of  the  depth  and  perman- 
ence of  his  affections.  A  crushing  sorrow  fell  on  him  in  his 
opening  manhood.  When  he  was  twenty-three,  his  young 
wife,  Elizabeth  Innes,  the  granddaughter  of  "  the  bonny  Earl 
of  Moray,"  was  snatched  from  him  by  death,  after  they  had 
enjoyed  but  five  summers  of  unalloyed  happiness  together. 
"  I  asked  at  the  Lord  iff  He  could  strick  anie  mor,"  he  wrote, 
fifteen  years  after  the  blow  had  descended ;  "  for  I  did  not 
esteem  anie  thing  behind."  And  on  a  much  later  day,  he 
draws  on  the  margin  of  the  Diary  an  admonitory  finger 
pointing  significantly  to  one  of  the  entries,  and  it  moves  us 
greatly  to  encounter  a  fresh  record  of  the  heartbreak  which 
is  both  old  and  new:  "August  12,  1673 — This  day  33  years 
my  beloved  wife  was  removed  from  me  by  death.  I  desir  to 
be  humbld  under  the  Lord's  hand,  and  to  acknowledg  His 
holines  and  justice."  Alexander  Brodie  did  not  marry  a 
second  time  ;  be  reverenced  one  woman  supremely,  and  was 
faithful  to  her  while  life  lasted.  And  in  this  he  is  a  kind 
of  far-off  relation  of  Eaphael,  leaving  his  pictures  to  make  a 
century  of  sonnets  for  the  peerless  lady  of  his  choice,  and  of 


A  TEMPORARY  255 

Dante,  forsaking  his  poetry  to  paint  an  angel  for  Beatrice : 
each  mastered  by  the  longing 

Once,  and  only  once,  and  for  one  only, 
(Ah,  the  prize  !)  to  find  his  love  a  language 
Fit  and  fair  and  simple  and  sufficient. 

Then,  also,  we  mark  with  pleasure  hpw  open-eyed  and 
wakeful  the  intellect  was  which  the  Morayshire  laird  carried 
about  with  him.  He  went  to  London  in  the  summer  of  the 
Kestoration ;  and  everything  interested  him.  "  I  saw  a 
mighti  citi,  numerous,  manie  souls  in  it,  great  plentie  of  all 
things,  and  thoght  him  a  great  king  that  had  soe  manie  at 
command;  yet  how  much  greater  is  He  that  has  all  the  cities 
of  the  world,  persons,  nations,  things  created  in  erth  and 
heauen  ! "  In  the  gardens  beyond  Bishopsgate  he  marvelled 
at  the  variety  of  trees  and  plants  and  flowers,  and  was  "  apt 
to  be  inordinat  about  thes  earthli  delights."  Towards  the 
end  of  October  he  was  a  witness  of  "  the  Lord  Maior  of  London 
his  solemnities,"  and  was  amazed  by  "  the  witt  and  invention 
of  men,"  and,  still  more,  by  the  strangeness  of  "  the  Lord's 
creatures  on  other  parts  of  this  earth,"  for  some  of  these 
portentous  monsters  had  their  place  in  the  show.  Ten  days 
later  he  dined  at  Billingsgate,  and  inspected  "  the  prison  of 
the  King's  Bench  in  Southrick,  and  the  workers  of  glass ;  in 
all  which  I  saw  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God  in  the  gifts  and 
faculties  which  He  has  given  to  men."     He  missed  nothing. 

He  was  a  book-lover,  too ;  and  he  counted  no  product  of 
brain  and  imagination  foreign  territory.  Now  we  catch  him 
reading  "  something  of  the  romance  of  Cassandra,"  and 
bewailing  the  fact  that  his  affections  were  wrought  on  more 
by  these  fictions  than  by  the  truth.  Again,  he  is  deep  in 
"  the  Turk's  Alcoran,"  but  finds  nothing  in  its  pages  to  stagger 
him  or  to  seduce.  Or  he  is  exceedingly  desirous  to  buy 
an  Atlas;  but  he  dreads  lest  he  should  trespass — cautious 
Scot  as  he  is — by  extravagant  and  unnecessary  expense,  or  by 
an  undue  contentment  and  comfort  in  the  use  of  the  creatures. 
He  draws  out  a  list  of  the  books  he  has  purchased  during  his 
sojourn  in  the  capital  in  1660  and  1661.     There  is  a  Bible  in 


256  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

quarto.  There  are  "  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,"  and  "  Alex.  Eoss  his 
Continuation,"  and  "  Heylyn's  Geographic."  There  are  Tacitus, 
and  Lucan,  and  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  and  Thucydides, 
and  Livy,  and  Polybius.  Few  men  in  the  Scotland  of  his 
day  were  better  informed  than  Brodie  of  Brodie. 

A  profounder  trait  still,  and  a  more  spiritual,  was  his 
anxiety  about  the  godliness  of  the  home.  When  his  wife 
went  from  him,  he  was  left  with  two  little  children,  James 
and  Grissel.  Year  after  year  he  watched  their  growth, 
omitting  no  means  of  grace,  catechising,  reproving,  encourag- 
ing, taking  care  that  his  bairns  made  their  personal  covenants 
with  God,  directing  them  habitually  to  the  hill  and  house  of 
holiness.  Afterwards,  when  they  married,  and  boys  and  girls 
of  theirs  began  to  gather  round  his  knees,  he  was  as  solici- 
tous for  the  piety  of  the  new  generation.  Only  nine  months 
before  the  close  of  his  life,  we  meet  this  sentence  in  the  Diary : 
"  I  did  speak  to  Ann,  Cath.,  and  Elz.,  my  poor  grandchildren, 
and  asked  if  they  were  content  to  enter  in  covenant  with  Him, 
and  they  consented,  and  gave  themselves  to  the  Lord  to  be 
His  for  ever,  and  tuk  on  His  bands."  Alexander  Brodie  had 
no  wish  to  pass  empty-handed  to  the  Sacred  Presence  and  the 
Gracious  Face ;  he  would  fain  lead  others  along  with  him  to 
the  splendid  goal. 

Yet,  with  so  many  laudable  features  of  mind  and  heart,  he 
was  a  Temporary.  It  was  not  that  he  cherished  a  scintilla  of 
doubt  as  to  which  was  the  cause  of  righteousness.  It  was  not 
that,  by  conviction  and  preference,  he  was  a  trimmer,  deter- 
mined to  remain  lukewarm  in  so  brisk  and  peremptory  a  world, 
where  almost  everybody  was  vociferously  supporting  one  side 
of  each  question.  An  American  essayist  describes  a  students' 
society  at  Harvard  which  was  intended  to  represent  the  tepid 
and  neutral  spirit  of  Laodicea — a  spirit  which  the  members 
esteemed  no  peril  to  be  shunned,  but  a  summum  honum  to  be 
sought  and  won.  Moral  heat  or  moral  cold  in  any  applicant 
was  a  reason  for  his  rejection.  The  word  "  But "  was  suggested 
as  a  motto,  because  it  contains  a  subtle  hint  that  something 
can  always  be  said  from  the  opposite  point  of  view.  Lord 
Brodie  never  could  have  belonged  to  the  ranks  of  this  society. 


A  TEMPORARY  257 

His  soul  had  its  ascertained  and  definite  beliefs,  and  they  led 
him  to  sympathise  with  the  stricter  Covenanters.  But  the 
sympathy  was  sedulously  repressed,  and  held  in  check  with 
constant  vigilance,  and  kept  in  the  cellar  instead  of  being  set 
on  the  housetop.  It  was  a  whisper  rather  than  a  flag.  He 
was  afraid  to  avow  it.  His  name  was  Mistrust,  and  not  Proteus 
or  Janus.  He  refused  to  put  out  on  the  vast  seas,  where  the 
risks  of  sinking  are  great,  even  if  there  are  the  Happy  Isles  to  be 
reached.  His  faint  and  nervous  temper  led  him  to  hug  the 
shore  and  to  engage  in  a  timid  coasting  trade.  He  com- 
promised his  own  ideals,  and  was  content  with  what  he  knew 
to  be  the  second-best. 

One  learns  where  his  real  predilections  lay  from  many  of 
his  confessions,  and,  not  least,  from  what  he  narrates  about 
Eobert  Leighton.  The  two  were  fast  friends;  and  we  think 
the  better  of  the  laird  because  of  his  love  for  the  saintly 
theologian.  But,  when  Leighton  proposed  to  conform  to 
Episcopacy,  nobody  grieved  more  than  the  northern  squire. 
"  Mr.  Lighton  din'd  with  me,"  he  notes  on  the  25th  of  October 
1661.  "I  perceaved  he  was  not  averss  from  taking  on  him 
to  be  a  Bishop;  all  was  clear  to  him;  civil  places  free  from 
censurs ;  he  approv'd  the  orgains,  antheams,  musick  in  ther 
worship.  He  said  the  greatest  error  among  papists  was  ther 
persecution  and  want  of  charitie  to  us.  His  intention  was  to 
doe  good  in  that  place,  and  not  for  ambition.  He  was  against 
defensive  arms :  men  in  poprie  holding  all  ther  tenets  might 
be  sav'd.  He  had  no  scruple  in  anie  thing  which  they  did, 
repeating  oft  this  word,  Eeligion  did  not  consist  in  thes 
external  things,  but  in  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy.  I  pray'd 
for  him,  as  for  myself,  and  was  feard  that  his  charitie  misguided 
might  be  a  snare  to  him."  A  month  afterwards,  when  the 
consecration  of  the  four  Bishops  was  not  far  off,  he  had  another 
meeting  with  the  good  man.  "  Anent  his  undertaking  I  did 
express  myself  freelie  to  him.  He  shewd  that  he  retaind  the 
same  tendernes  and  bowels  to  thes  that  feard  God.  I  desird 
him  to  use  his  libertie  not  to  stumble  but  to  edifie  others. 
He  said,  he  thoght  he  was  bound  to  use  his  libertie  to  the 
utmost ;  and,  if  he  did  forbear  to  use  his  libertie  in  things 
17 


258  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

quherein  he  had  freedom,  he  thoght  he  sinn'd.  I  exhorted 
him  to  guard  against  Poprie.  He  said,  he  had  not  anie  thing 
he  mor  desird  than  that  they  might  have  libertie  also,  and  not 
for  ther  consciences  to  be  prest ;  he  would  indulge  them,  and 
Anabaptists,  and  Quakers:  he  lykd  the  Liturgie  and  som  of 
thes  things  best.  Thes  opinions  wer  dangerous.  I  besoght 
him  to  watch,  and  prayd  the  Lord  for  him.  I  desird  him  to 
use  his  credit  that  the  Ceremonies  might  not  be  broght  in 
upon  us.  He  said,  he  wishd  soe;  but  he  hop'd  they  should 
be  prest  on  none.  Alace !  efter  introducing,  force  will  soon 
ensew.  But  he  does  not  perceave  or  suspect  it."  Here  is  the 
scrupulous  Presbyter  face  to  face  with  the  apostle  of  sweetness 
and  light,  the  advocate  of  breadth  and  comprehension.  He  is 
eager  to  save  him  from  the  coils  of  fatal  concession.  He 
sees  the  serpents  which  are  sure  to  sting  and  kill,  if  once  the 
protective  hedges  are  broken  down.  He  urges  his  friend  to 
pause,  ere  he  has  committ».d  himself  and  the  mischief  is  beyond 
repair.  Leighton  had  not  travelled  far  on  the  new  road,  before 
he  discovered  that  Brodie's  prevision  was  not  wholly  at  fault. 
"  I  spoke  with  B.  Dumblaim,"  the  record  runs  on  the  27th  of 
January  1662.  "  He  told  me  he  feard  he  shold  be  disappointed 
in  them  he  was  to  be  joind  with ;  and  he  exprest  his  desir  and 
purpos  to  know  and  doe  the  will  of  God.  0,  let  the  Lord 
grant  him  and  me  also  this  mercie ! "  These  are  colloquies 
out  of  which  the  Covenanter  comes  a  victor ;  he  seems  to  have 
chosen  the  breezier  uplands  and  the  better  road. 

Ah,  but  has  he  ?  We  are  compelled  to  doubt  it  soon ;  and, 
long  before  we  reach  the  latest  entry  in  the  Diary,  our  verdict 
is  reversed,  and  eulogy  is  exchanged  for  lament.  So  soon 
as  King  Charles's  policy  had  revealed  its  bitter  issues  for  the 
men  of  the  Covenant,  Lord  Brodie  toned  down  the  vivid  blue 
of  his  banner  into  a  more  indeterminate  tint.  The  fear  of 
man  held  him  in  constant  vacillation  and  trouble  of  mind. 
He  would  not  risk  his  position,  he  would  not  forfeit  a  farm 
or  a  field,  in  defence  of  his  beliefs  ;  "  the  trash  and  hagg,"  as 
in  a  moment  of  candour  he  designates  his  goods  and  gear,  were 
too  priceless  to  lose  for  the  sake  of  intangible  truth.  The 
narrative   becomes   pitiful   in   the   extreme.     "0  my  dulnes, 


A  TEMPORARY  259 

blindnes,  barrennes,  fleshlines ! "  the  surgeon  sobbed,  as  he 
thrust  the  scalpel  into  his  own  flesh ;  but,  in  spite  of  his  self- 
knowledge,  there  was  no  attempt  to  heal  his  wounds — he 
hated  his  unworthinesses,  and  he  clung  fast  to  them.  Even 
while  he  expostulated  with  Leighton,  he  was  perjuring  him- 
self to  win  the  grace  of  a  meaner  man.  "  Dr.  Sharp  din'd 
with  me.  I  movd  to  him  to  speak  to  the  King,  and  to  my 
Lord  Kothes,  for  me  and  my  freinds.  Let  not  his  favour  be  a 
snare  to  me ;  for  his  principls  are  full  of  danger ;  neither  let 
anie  stumble  at  it."  And,  again :  "  I  did  purpos  not  to  mak 
mickle  use  of  Mr.  Ja.  Sharp ;  albeit  I  thoght  I  might  doe  it 
lawfulie,  and,  through  the  grace  of  God  asisting,  not  sin  or 
necessarlie  fal  in  anie  snare.  But  I  perceave  ther  is  small 
tendernes  in  me.  0  help.  Lord,  quhen  tendernes  fail ! "  And, 
more  noteworthy  still :  "  I  call'd  Sharp  Lord.  I  desir  to 
examin  if  I  sin'd  in  it."  Dr.  Mozley  writes  of  the  New 
Testament  Pharisee  that  he  succeeded  in  "  taming  and 
domesticating "  his  conscience,  in  vulgarising  and  humiliating 
and  chaining  it;  and  it  was  what  Alexander  Brodie  had  set 
himself  to  do.  But,  when  Mozley  adds  that  the  Pharisee  con- 
trived in  the  end  to  make  his  conscience  "  a  manageable  and 
applauding  companion,"  we  feel  that  the  Covenanter  is  no 
longer  in  alliance  with  him.  The  Lord  of  Session  might  rein 
in  his  convictions,  so  that  they  had  no  liberty ;  but  they  kept 
him  always  in  turmoil  of  spirit.  He  was  for  ever  labouring  in 
the  deep  mid-ocean,  for  ever  climbing  up  the  climbing  wave. 

For  things  did  not  mend  as  years  went  on.  He  was  well 
aware  that,  if  he  followed  the  inner  light,  he  must  listen  to 
the  field-preachers ;  but  it  was  as  manifest  that,  if  he  consulted 
his  interest,  he  must  attend  the  parish  church,  and  hearken 
to  the  curate  whose  "  dead  ministrie  "  he  deplored  and  despised. 
He  selected  the  ignobler  com^se;  and  thus  the  Sabbath,  the 
Dies  Dominica  of  the  Diary,  instead  of  being  a  delight  and 
honourable,  brought  him  nothing  else  than  self-accusation  and 
pain.  Sometimes,  to  extricate  himself  from  his  spiritual  toils, 
he  remained  in  his  own  room ;  and  there  are  frequently 
recurring  admissions  after  the  fashion  of  this :  "  Deer.  24 — 
Die  Dom.     I  staid  at  bom  becaus  of  the  tym,  and  the  observa- 


26o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

tion,  and  the  danger  of  the  Earle  of  Murray."  The  unhappy- 
tenant  of  the  Debateable  Land  was  tossed  from  difficulty  to 
difficulty,  from  the  swords  of  the  Douglas  to  the  arrows  of  the 
Percy.  He  is  told  about  some  poor  men  who  are  fined  at 
Inverness,  for  not  hearing  the  present  ministers;  and, 
"  whatever  be  ther  errour  or  darknes,"  he  owns  that  "  they 
hav  mor  affection,  simplicitie,  and  honestie  than  I."  Or  the 
curate  complains  to  him  of  those  who  are  disconform,  and 
alleges  that  they  have  the  doctrine  and  ways  of  the  Donatists 
and  Cathari ;  but  "  I  did  deny  this,  and  said  that  they  had 
nothing  common  with  them,  but  wer  sound  and  orthodox, 
excep  in  the  maiter  of  government " ;  and  then,  carrying  the 
war  into  the  enemy's  country,  "  I  said,  I  feard  manie  preachd 
for  love  of  ther  stipends,  and  could  be  content  to  quit 
preaching  so  that  they  had  ther  livlihood."  The  leaders  in  the 
north  of  the  more  unswerving  party,  James  Fraser  of  Brea 
and  Thomas  Hog  of  Kiltearn,  were  now  and  then  in  Brodie's 
society;  and  they  did  not  fail  to  reprove  his  tergiversations 
and  excuses.  "  He  had  an  argument " — Thomas  Hog  is  the 
logician — "  That  they  who  want  the  qualificatious  which  by 
Christ's  institution  should  be  in  a  minister,  they  are  noe 
ministers.  I  scrupld  at  this,  and  broght  the  example  of 
Judas.  I  said,  A  man  might  be  a  calld  lawful  minister  in 
some  respects,  and  yet  want  these  qualifications  of  grace  that's 
needful.  He  said,  That  I  could  be  a  curat  or  anie  thing." 
Indeed,  there  was  cause  for  the  anger  of  the  preacher  who  was 
"  steel-true  and  blade-straight " ;  but  the  other  who  felt  its 
edge  did  not  like  it.  "My  woful  heart  kindl'd"  —  this  was 
on  a  subsequent  day — "  and  I  said  I  did  noe  less  dislyk  hi& 
severitie  in  censuring  the  condition  and  estate  of  others,  and 
that  he  took  the  keys,  and  judgd  rashlie  and  rigidlie,  and  that 
I  could  not  embrace  the  opinion  becaus  Mr.  Tho.  Hog  said  it, 
and,  if  he  stumbld  at  me,  he  might  forbear  me."  The  reader 
becomes  more  and  more  sorry  for  a  man  whose  faith  and  love 
journey  one  road,  and  his  advantages  and  gains  precisely  the 
opposite ;  and  who  prefers  the  easier  going  in  Bypath  Meadow, 
even  when  he  knows  that  he  should  be  out  on  the  King's 
Highway. 


A  TEMPORARY  261 

But  at  times  sorrow  deepens  into  indignation.     From  the 
northern  districts  some  troops  of  militia  were  summoned  to 
contend  against  the  Whigs  at  Bothwell  Bridge.     We  could  not 
have  dreamed  that  Alexander  Brodie,  himself  a  Covenanter, 
would   contribute   his   band   of   retainers  to  fight  those  with 
whom   he   was   in   sympathy.     But   he   did.     There   was,   of 
course,  the  customary  inward  debate,  the  swaying  back  and 
forward  of  the  reed  shaken  with  the  wind.     "This  morning 
I  had  wrestHngs  "  whether  "  I  should  go  against  these  in  the 
west."     And  then  the  turns  of  the  mental  discussion  are  re- 
counted :  "1.  I  did  not  allow  their  rising.     2.  There  is  mickle 
rashnes.     o.  They  seim  not  to   have   a  call   to   it.     4.  They 
have  no   rational   grounds  to  expect  that   they  can   prevail 
against  these  that  ar  against  them,  being  the  armies  of  three 
Kingdoms.     Yet  it  is  not  the  question,  is  it  safest  ?  but,  is  it 
most  acceptable  to  God,  wil  it  get  approbation,  and  hav  peace  ? 
On  the  one  hand,  I  sie  if  I  draw  back  there  is  unavoidable 
danger   of  destruction  to  me,  my  poor  children,  and  familie. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  have  onlie  to  ponder  what  God  utters, 
and,  being  clear  in  that,  to  take  Him  for  all,  and  cast  dangers, 
fears,  power,  malice,  lust   of   men,   upon   His   all-sufficiencie, 
truth,  providence,  wisdom,  sovereigntie,  power."     But  he  shut 
his   eyes   to   these   legions   of   angels,  and   again  he  was  the 
sycophant  and  timeserver,  although  with  not  a  whit  more  of 
satisfaction  to  himself.     "June  21,  1679 — I  reflected  on  my 
putting   out   the   foot,  and  promoving  and  strenthening  ther 
hands  that  were  goeing  against  the  handful,  and  was  shaken, 
and  doubted  if  God  did  allow."     The  Diary  supplies  us  with 
an  object-lesson  of  the  remediless  misery  that  keeps  gnawing, 
with  eagle's  beak  and  talons,  at  the  vitals  of  the  man  who  sins 
against  his  own  soul. 

To  the  last  the  wavering  and  irresolute  heart  was  without 
the  sunshine  which  rewards  a  stouter  trust.  Two  days  before 
he  escaped  from  his  "  confusions  and  heavines,"  this  was  his 
cry,  "  Quhen  will  mercie  find  a  way  to  overtake  a  poor  rebell  ? " 
Yet,  when  the  end  was  but  three  or  four  hours  distant,  his  son 
testifies  that  he  had  "  some  blink  of  reviving,"  and  that  those 
round  his  bed  heard  from  his  lips  "  sweit,  savorie,  seasonable 


262  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

words."  One  is  glad  that  there  was  a  beam  of  light  in  the 
evening  of  that  cloudy  day.  "Above  all,  believe  it,"  said 
Lord  Bacon,  "  the  sweetest  canticle  is  Nunc  Dimittis  " ;  and 
Alexander  Brodie  could  have  confirmed  the  truth. 

His  autobiography,  with  its  introspections  and  self-scourg- 
ings,  is  a  human  document,  in  which  perhaps  some  of  us  may 
find  delineated  our  own  frailty  and  unfaithfulness.  But  it  has 
its  value,  too,  because  it  emphasises  a  contrast.  We  lift  our 
thoughts  from  it  to  the  life-histories  of  the  men  and  women 
who  stood  unshaken,  unseduced,  unterrified ;  and  we  under- 
stand, more  clearly  than  ever,  against  what  persistent 
temptations  from  without  and  within  they  needed  to  battle, 
and  how  glorious  the  patience  and  hardihood  were  which 
enabled  them  to  overcome. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE  LION  OF  THE  COVENANT. 

THE  year  of  Drumclog  and  Bothwell  had  serious  con- 
sequences for  others  than  the  Covenanters.  There  was 
the  Duke  of  Lauderdale,  for  example.  That  such  grievous 
rebellions  should  perturb  the  country  was  not  to  the  credit 
of  the  man  who  was  the  country's  overlord ;  and  he  had 
enemies  who  were  quick  to  use  them  against  him.  Yet  he 
had  triumphed  over  similar  hazards  before,  and  he  might  have 
asserted  his  supremacy  again.  The  King  was  still  his  friend ; 
and  he  needed  only  to  manifest  the  old  arrogance,  and  most  of 
the  governing  class  in  Scotland  would  cringe  before  their  master. 
But  now  his  own  health  was  breaking.  Much  of  his  time  was 
spent  in  drinking  the  waters  at  Bath  and  Tunbridge  Wells. 
He  had  not  the  physical  vitality  which  would  enable  him  to 
combat  his  antagonists ;  and  they  gained  on  him  little  by  little. 
In  November  1680,  we  find  the  Scottish  Bishops  sending  him 
a  farewell  address ;  for  he  has  resigned  his  great  office  of  "  sole 
Secretarie  of  State  for  this  kingdom,"  handing  over  its  dignities 
to  the  Earl  of  Moray.  They  avow  themselves  most  grateful  to 
their  imperious  benefactor.  "  For  the  eminent  appearances 
and  actings  of  your  Grace  for  our  Eeligion,  our  Order,  and  our 
Church,  as  wee  offer  to  your  Grace  our  most  humble  and 
heartie  thanks,  so  sail  wee  offer  unto  God  our  most  fervent 
Prayers  for  your  Grace's  honor,  interest,  and  Glorie  in  both 
worlds."  Queensberry's  star  was  in  the  ascendant,  the 
Queensberry  whom  Claverhouse  flattered,  though  there  was 
neither  trust  nor  liking  between  the  two.  And  another 
personage — foreboding,  sinister,  intolerant,  even  if  in  Holyrood 

he  cultivated  the  good  opinion  of  Scottish  lords  and  ladies  by 

263 


264  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

routs  and  gaieties — began  in  those  years  to  figure  prominently 
in  the  guidance  of  affairs. 

This  was  the  Duke  of  York.  In  London  and  throughout 
England  he  was  suspected  on  account  of  his  Papistry ;  and  it 
was  judged  prudent  that  he  should  go  to  the  north  for  a  time. 
Through  the  closing  months  of  1679  and  the  early  ones  of 
1680,  he  had  his  home  in  Edinburgh.  In  the  Privy  Council 
he  took  his  seat  without  swearing  any  Oath  of  Allegiance ; 
laws  which  were  iron  for  Presbyterians  became  elastic  for  a 
Eoman  Catholic  so  imposing  and  powerful.  Indeed,  he  did 
very  much  what  he  pleased.  When,  in  the  spring,  he  returned 
to  Whitehall,  twenty-six  of  the  Councillors  wrote  to  the  King 
an  epistle  of  commendation  as  fulsome  as  it  was  quaint, 
"  May  it  please  your  sacred  Majesty,"  the  first  sentence  ran, 
"  the  remembrance  of  having  been  under  the  protection  of 
your  Eoyall  family  above  two  thowsand  years ;  of  having  been 
preserved  by  their  valour  from  the  slavery  to  which  others 
were  so  often  reduced ;  and  of  having  receaved  from  their 
bounty  the  lands  wee  possess :  Hath  been  very  much  re- 
fresh'd  and  renew'd  by  having  your  Eoyall  Brother  among  us, 
in  whom  wee  have  seen  that  moderation  of  spirit  and  equality 
of  Justice,  that  is  so  remarkable  in  your  sacred  Eace." 
Charles,  whose  humour  never  failed,  and  who  was  shrewd  in 
his  understanding  of  men,  must  have  been  amused  by  the 
singular  tribute.  Sixteen  months  later,  the  Duke  was  back  in 
Edinburgh,  on  this  occasion  as  King's  Commissioner ;  and  at 
length  the  reign  of  Lauderdale  was  at  an  end. 

By  August  1682,  John  Maitland  was  dead.  Step  by  step 
he  went  down  his  tragic  descent.  His  body  was  shaken 
by  gross  self-indulgence.  He  was  denied  the  affections  of 
home ;  for  his  wife,  who  cared  only  for  the  pomp  and  wealth 
her  husband  brought  her,  now  neglected  him  openly.  One 
wonders  what  his  thoughts  were  as  he  looked  before  and 
after.  If  he  felt  any  penitences,  any  misgivings,  any  yearnings 
after  Heaven's  forgiveness,  no  record  of  these  remains.  "  0, 
my  lord,"  Eichard  Baxter  had  pleaded  with  tearful  im- 
portunity, "do  I  need  to  tell  you  that  all  this  glory  will 
quickly  set  in  the  shadows  of  death,  and  that  all  this  sweeting 


THE   DUKE   OF  YORK. 
After  a  Portrait  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller. 


THE  LION  OF  THE  COVENANT  265 

will  turn  soure  ?  And  how  little  it  will  comfort  a  departing 
soule  to  look  back  on  prosperity,  and  how  terrible  it  will 
be  to  reflect  on  a  life  of  covenant-breaking  and  unfaithfullnes 
to  God !  "  But  Lauderdale  passed,  and  gave  no  sign.  Seven 
months  after  he  breathed  his  last  in  Kent,  he  had  a  splendid 
burial  in  Haddington.  At  Inveresk  Kirk  the  Bishop  of 
Edinburgh  preached  very  learnedly ;  and,  at  one  of  the  clock, 
the  funeral — the  body  being  in  the  hearse  covered  with  the 
pall  or  canopy — went  in  procession  to  the  Abbey  Church  in 
the  East  Lothian  town.  By  and  by,  at  five  o'clock,  "  that  noble 
and  extraordinary  person "  was  placed  in  his  tomb,  next  to 
his  father's,  but  raised  higher  upon  a  base  of  stone  made  of 
purpose.  There  were  present  two  thousand  horse,  insomuch 
that  they  filled  the  highway  for  full  four  miles  in  length  ; 
and  there  were  twenty-five  coaches.  So  they  "  led  out  the 
pageant,  sad  and  slow."  But  there  were  poor  men,  whom 
he  had  sent  to  glorify  God  in  the  Grassmarket,  who  had  an 
exodus  more  impressive  and  victorious. 

When  Bothwell  had  been  fought  and  lost,  silence  fell  on 
the  Kirk.  The  silence  would  have  been  unbroken,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  voices  of  two  or  three  in  the  straitest  sect 
of  the  Covenant.  Their  testimony  increased  in  determination 
and  vehemence.  We  have  seen  what  subjects  divided  Presby- 
terians. There  were  the  Indulgences.  Was  it  permissible, 
or  was  it  unlawful,  to  receive  the  measure  of  liberty  which 
they  offered  ?  There  was  the  Cess.  It  was  a  tax  applied 
to  the  persecution  of  the  faithful ;  but,  if  payment  should  be 
refused,  the  dragoons  had  their  commission  to  plunder  and 
kill.  Might  one  submit  at  the  bayonet's  point;  or,  let  the 
worst  come  to  the  worst,  ought  the  Covenanter  to  say  No  ? 
It  is  impossible  to  condemn  outright  the  good  men  who 
chose  the  path  of  least  resistance;  even  for  them  the  road 
was  thorny  enough.  But  their  brethren,  who  would  bend 
to  no  wind  that  blew,  were  more  consistent.  They  maintained 
untorn  the  independence  of  the  Church.  They  vindicated  the 
subject's  right  of  protest  against  the  arbitrariness  of  over- 
bearing rulers.  They  carried  to  their  proper  issue  the  principles 
of  the  Covenant. 


266  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

They  were  sometimes  unreasonable.  When  Sir  Eobert 
Hamilton  and  his  staff  wasted  time  and  temper  in  unbrotherly 
debate  with  John  Welsh,  there  is  no  justification  for  the  folly. 
Instead  of  distilling  like  the  dew,  they  riddled  like  hailstones 
those  with  whom-  they  should  have  been  friends.  But,  had 
they  spoken  it  in  love,  they  had  truth  on  their  side.  And, 
allied  with  them,  there  were  some  as  undismayed  but  more 
admirable,  men  to  kindle  in  their  fellows  the  uttermost  of 
devotion.  Eichard  Cameron  was  one  of  these,  "  the  Lion  of 
the  Covenant,"  as  he  has  been  called.  He  was  in  no  sense 
responsible  for  the  miserable  bickerings  which  preceded 
Bothwell ;  he  was  absent  in  Holland  on  that  mournful  Sabbath. 
But  he,  too,  is  among  the  stalwarts,  who  hold  all  temporis- 
ing policies  in  abhorrence.  To  the  Committee  on  Military 
Education  a  British  General  said  recently,  "  It  is  not  form 
to  show  keenness."  The  opposite  was  Cameron's  faith.  He 
believed  in  keenness,  in  convictions  inwoven  into  the  texture 
of  the  soul,  in  confessions  proclaimed  by  lips  that  are  clear- 
toned,  in  the  scorn  of  consequence,  in  obedience  to  God 
although  the  heavens  should  fall.  "  A  detestable  indiff'erency 
and  neutrality  "  had  no  lodging  in  his  heart. 

Like  Hugh  Mackail  and  James  Eenwick,  Eichard  Cameron 
remains  always  young.  When  death  came,  sharp  and  red 
and  kind,  he  was  but  a  year  or  two  above  thirty.  The 
date  of  his  birth  is  uncertain ;  but,  if  we  fix  it  for  1648,  we 
cannot  be  far  from  the  mark.  He  was  a  native  of  the  old 
Fifeshire  town  of  Falkland,  where  the  Stuart  kings  had  a 
famous  palace;  he  grew  up,  as  we  may  say,  under  the  very 
shadow  of  the  autocracy  and  prelacy  against  which  he  waged 
war  a  outrance.  His  father,  Allan  Cameron,  merchant  in 
Falkland,  and  his  mother,  Margaret  Paterson,  were  Scots 
of  the  sober,  "  bien,"  diligent  middle-class  which,  first  and 
last,  has  done  so  much  for  the  country.  There  were  two 
younger  sons :  Michael,  to  be  linked  inseparably  with 
Eichard  in  the  supreme  moments  of  his  history,  and  Alexander, 
who  became  a  Covenanting  minister,  but  of  whose  biography 
little  is  discernible.  There  seems  to  have  been  a  daughter 
also,  Marion  Cameron — a  fearless  girl,  whom  tradition  reports 


THE  LION  OF  THE  COVENANT  267 

to  have  suffered  death  at  the  hands  of  the  troopers.  The 
little  family  gave  overflowing  proof  of  its  affection  for  the 
persecuted  Church. 

But,  in  the  outset,  Richard  was  not  the  Lionheart  he 
afterwards  became.  When  he  had  taken  his  University 
degree,  he  was  precentor  and  schoolmaster  in  Falkland  under 
the  Episcopal  curate.  Occasionally,  however,  in  the  fields, 
he  listened  to  a  Covenanting  minister ;  and,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  these  stolen  opportunities  made  all  things  new.  "  In 
that  sun-blink  day  of  power,"  writes  Patrick  Walker,  "  when 
the  net  of  the  Gospel  was  let  down  at  the  right  side  of  the 
ship,  then  a  great  draught  of  perishing  souls  was  effectually 
caught,"  One  of  the  enmeshed  and  happy  souls  was  Cameron's ; 
and  nothing  could  be  more  radical  than  the  change  he 
underwent.  It  was  not  simply  that  he  found  his  spiritual 
home  henceforward  amongst  Presbyterians,  but  immediately 
he  showed  himself  a  root-and-branch  man.  Now,  and  to 
the  close,  he  stood  among  the  most  inflexible  of  his  fresh- 
found  comrades.  But  Falkland  was  no  residence  for  an 
enthusiast,  and  he  left  his  native  town.  For  a  time  he  was 
tutor  in  the  family  of  Sir  William  Scot,  of  Harden,  in  the 
county  of  Eoxburgh — a  gentleman  who,  in  a  later  year,  was 
sentenced  both  to  imprisonment  and  to  a  fine  of  £4000 
because  of  his  love  for  the  Covenant.  Yet  even  Sir  William 
Scot  and  his  lady  were  not  sufficiently  decisive  for  the 
young  tutor.  It  was  to  the  preaching  of  one  of  the  Indulged 
ministers  that  the  Harden  household  went;  and  Eichard 
Cameron's  conscience  would  not  permit  him  to  accompany 
them.  Once  more  he  forsook  home,  to  join  himself  with 
John  Welsh,  who  was  then  holding  meetings  in  Teviotdale. 
It  was  Welsh  who  prevailed  on  him,  against  his  own  desire, 
to  receive  license  as  a  preacher ;  he  was  sure,  he  said,  that, 
with  his  peremptory  beliefs,  he  would  only  be  a  root  of  bitter- 
ness in  the  camp.  But  his  objections  were  repelled ;  and  in 
the  house  of  Henry  Hall  of  Haughhead,  the  captain  who  fought 
at  Drumclog  and  Both  well,  the  hands  of  a  little  company  of 
outed  ministers  were  laid  on  his  fair  hair,  and  he  was  set 
apart  to  publish  to  a  convulsed  nation  the  Evangel  of  peace. 


268  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

They  had  gauged  the  quality  of  the  new  recruit ;  and,  at 
once,  they  bade  him  repair  to  a  difficult  portion  of  the  field. 
"The  first  place  they  sent  him  to" — Mr.  Welsh  and  Mr. 
Sempill  and  the  others — "was  Annandale.  He  said,  How 
could  he  go  there  T  for  he  knew  not  what  sort  of  people  they 
were.  Mr.  Welsh  said,  '  Go  your  way,  Eitchie ;  set  the  fire 
of  hell  to  their  tail.'  The  first  day  he  preached  upon  that 
text,  Hoio  shall  I  put  thee  among  the  children?  In  the  applica- 
tion he  said,  '  Put  you  among  the  children,  the  offspring  of 
robbers  and  thieves  ! '  Many  have  heard  of  Annandale  thieves. 
Some  of  them,  who  got  a  merciful  cast  that  day,  told  it 
afterwards  that  it  was  the  first  field-preaching  that  ever  they 
heard,  and  that  they  went  out  of  curiosity,  to  see  how  a  minister 
would  preach  in  a  tent  and  people  sit  on  the  ground  ;  but,  if 
many  of  them  went  without  an  errand,  they  got  one  that  day." 
From  the  commencement,  his  Lord  honoured  the  ministry  of 
Richard  Cameron. 

But  his  outspokenness,  as  he  had  dreaded,  brought  him  an 
inheritance  of  distrust.    He  could  not  refrain  from  condemning 
the  Indulgence ;  until  some  even  of  those  who  confided  in  him 
began  to  doubt  his  wisdom,  and  to  find  fault  with  sentences 
which  burned  like  a  flame  and  smote   like  a  hammer.     At 
Dunscore  in  Nithsdale,  a  parish  with  memories  both  of  Eobert 
Burns  and  of  Thomas  Carlyle,  a   meeting  of  ministers  was 
held.      John    Welsh    attended,    and    Gabriel    Sempill,   and 
Thomas   Douglas,   and   David   Williamson.      They   reproved, 
though  surely  with  all  gentleness,  the  eager  young  preacher 
who  had  won  their  love.     If  they  rejoiced  in  his  zeal,  they 
would  have  it  tempered  by  a  more  longsuffering  spirit.     It 
would  seem,  although  his  latest  biographer  doubts  it,  that  he 
gave  them  a  promise  of  increased  watchfulness  and  moderation ; 
he  would  try  to  hold  in  check  the  ardencies  of   his  heart 
and  tongue,  and  would  deal  more  exclusively  with  those  rich 
evangelical  themes  on  which  all  the  prophets  of  the  Covenant 
were  agreed.     Was   it  because  afterwards   he   regretted   the 
promise  and  fell  into  trouble  of  spirit  on  account  of  his  fancied 
backsliding,  or  was  it  simply  that  he  might  receive  abroad  the 
ordination  which  in  so  distressful  a  time  it  was  difficult  to  get 


THE  LION  OF  THE  COVENANT  269 

in  Scotland,  that,  a  few  months  subsequently,  he  crossed  the 
North  Sea  to  Holland  ?  Whatever  the  motive  might  be — and 
this  is  but  one  of  the  unsettled  questions  in  Cameron's 
life-story  —  we  meet  him  erelong  in  the  company  of  the 
exiles,  John  Brown  and  Kobert  MacWard.  In  May  1679,  as 
Professor  Herkless  and  Dr.  Hay  Fleming  conclude,  he  left  his 
own  country  for  the  Continent.  And  so  he  was  hundreds  of 
miles  away  when,  in  the  following  month,  victory  waited  on 
the  flag  of  the  Covenant,  and  then  defeat  trailed  it  shamefully 
in  the  mire. 

He  made  an  instant  impression  on  those  among  whom  he 
had  gone.  "  I  crave  leave  to  tell  you,"  writes  MacWard,  "  that 
the  common  report  of  poor  Mr.  Cameron  was,  that  not  only  he 
did  preach  nothing  but  babble  against  the  Indulgence,  but 
that  he  could  do  no  other  thing.  And  this  was  so  confidently 
and  commonly  talked,  that  I  was  not  in  case  to  contradict 
it  upon  knowledge.  But,  by  his  coming  hither,  the  reporters 
have  lost  their  credit  of  being  so  easily  believed  for  the  future ; 
and  many  who  heard  him  were  convinced  that  prejudice, 
heightened  to  malice,  had  given  men  liberty  to  talk  so.  For 
here  he  was  found  a  man  of  a  savoury  Gospel-spirit ;  the 
bias  of  his  heart  lying  towards  the  proposing  of  Christ, 
and  persuading  to  a  closing  with  Him."  In  the  Scots  Kirk 
at  Eotterdam,  he  delivered  a  "  satisfying  and  delightsome " 
sermon,  refreshing  to  many,  on  that  appealing  cry  of  the 
Lover  of  men.  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy- 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  He  was  far  removed  from 
the  ordinary  type  of  controversialist ;  there  was  the  note  of 
affectionateness  in  his  utterance.  In  public  prayer  he  would 
still  bewail  the  tyrannies  and  defections  in  the  homeland ;  but, 
when  he  stood  up  to  speak,  he  was  the  herald  of  the  King  of 
grace  who  died  to  redeem  the  lost. 

So  entirely  were  Brown  and  MacWard  united  in  community 
of  thought  with  Eichard  Cameron  that  they  gladly  gave  him 
ordination.  In  Rotterdam,  with  a  Dutch  divine,  Pastor  James 
Koelman,  to  assist  them,  the  ceremony  took  place.  When 
Brown  and  Koelman  had  lifted  their  hands  from  the  head  bent 
in  consecration  beneath  them,  MacWard  left  his  resting  on  the 


270  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

light-brown  locks.  "  Behold ! "  he  cried,  "  all  ye  spectators. 
Here  is  the  head  of  a  faithful  minister  and  servant  of  Jesus 
Christ,  who  shall  lose  the  same  for  his  Master's  interest ;  and 
it  shall  be  set  up  before  sun  and  moon  in  the  public  view 
of  the  world."  Those  were  days  when  old  experience,  and 
sanctified  sorrow,  and  brooding  meditation,  and  daily  com- 
munion with  God,  endowed  men  with  the  insight  of  the  saint 
and  the  foresight  of  the  seer. 

Eobert  Mac  Ward's  prediction  did  not  tarry  long  for  its 
realisation.  In  the  October  of  1679,  Cameron  was  again  in 
Scotland,  resolved,  even  if  he  had  to  essay  the  enterprise  in 
loneliness,  that  he  would  "  lift  the  fallen  standard  and  display 
it  publicly  before  the  world."  Within  nine  months  his  race 
was  completed ;  but  so  marvellously  had  he  succeeded  in  his 
work  that  only  three  or  four  names  in  the  annals  of  the 
Covenant  are  better  remembered  than  his.  Not  many  stood 
by  him  during  these  fateful  months  ;  he  had  need  of  the  bold- 
ness and  the  faith  which  can  dispense  with  human  helpers. 
Sometimes  old  Donald  Cargill  would  assist  him  in  preaching 
on  hillside  or  moor,  and  sometimes  Thomas  Douglas ;  but 
generally  he  hurried  in  solitude  on  his  Master's  errands.  John 
Welwood  would  have  been  his  true  yokefellow  had  he  lived ; 
but,  in  the  same  year  of  1679,  worn  with  labour  and  sickness, 
he  betook  himself  to  the  joys  of  heaven ;  that  morning  on 
which  he  died,  when  he  saw  the  first  streaks  of  the  dawn,  he 
said,  "  Now,  eternal  light !  no  more  night  nor  darkness  to  me  ! " 
In  Clydesdale  and  Ayrshire  Eichard  Cameron  carried  his 
burden,  and  made  full  proof  of  his  ministry ;  and  the  succours 
he  had  were  spiritual  and  unseen. 

He  was  a  preacher  who  knew  how  to  persuade  his  hearers. 
Usually,  as  in  Holland,  his  discourses  treated  of  the  perennial 
verities.  Once,  on  a  knowe  in  New  Monkland,  he  had  that 
great  text,  A  Man  shall  he  as  an  hiding  -jylace  from  the 
wind ;  and  the  people  enjoyed  "  a  desirable,  confirming,  and 
comforting  day."  Again,  somewhere  between  the  shires  of 
Ayr  and  Lanark,  he  spoke  on  the  wistful  words  of  Jesus,  Ye 
will  not  come  to  Me  that  ye  might  have  life.  In  the  heart  of  the 
sermon  he  paused ;  and  in  the  pause  he  prayed  for  the  restora- 


THE  LION  OF  THE  COVENANT  271 

tion  of  the  Jews,  for  the  fall  of  Antichrist,  and  for  the  hastening 
of  the  hour  when  the  Stuarts  should  be  swept  from  the  throne. 
Then  he  went  back  to  his  theme,  mounting  into  a  sublimer 
strain  as  he  proceeded.  " '  I  have  had  a  profession  for  many 
years,'  say  ye,  '  and  yet,  I  fear,  I  have  never  yet  come  to 
Christ.'  But  I  say.  Our  Lord  is  here  this  day,  saying,  '  Will 
ye  take  Me,  ye  that  have  a  lie  so  long  in  your  right  hand  ? ' 
.  .  .  There  may  be  some  saying,  '  If  I  get  or  take  Him,  I 
shall  get  a  cross  also.'  Well,  that  is  true ;  but  ye  will  get  a 
sweet  cross.  Thus  we  offer  Him  unto  you  in  the  parishes  of 
Auchinleck,  Douglas,  Crawfordjohn,  and  all  ye  that  live  there- 
about. And  what  say  ye  ?  Will  ye  take  Him  ?  Tell  us  what 
ye  say;  for  we  take  instruments  before  these  hills  and 
mountains  around  us  that  we  have  offered  Him  unto  you  this 
day.  .  .  .  Angels  are  wondering  at  this  offer ;  they  stand 
beholding  with  admiration  that  our  Lord  is  giving  you  such  an 
offer  this  day.  The  angels  will  go  up  to  report  at  the  Throne 
what  is  every  one's  choice."  The  hunger  to  catch  souls  drove 
him  on ;  he  could  not  let  his  listeners  go  without  learning  how 
matters  stood  between  them  and  his  Lord.  As  he  closed,  again 
he  paused,  compelled  to  do  so  now  by  the  depth  of  his  emotion. 
He  fell  into  "  a  rap  of  calm  weeping,"  and  the  congregation 
wept  along  with  him.     It  was  a  conventicle  never  forgotten. 

But  Richard  Cameron  lives  in  Scottish  history  in  another 
character,  as  the  man  who  denounced  and  abjured  the 
despotism  of  the  Royal  house.  After  his  home-coming  from 
the  Continent,  he  had  little  to  say  regarding  the  Indulgence 
and  the  Indulged.  He  disapproved  them  still ;  but,  in  these 
supreme  weeks  when  he  travelled  so  swiftly  to  the  sight  of 
Christ's  face,  his  witness  was  directed  against  the  worst  evils 
in  the  land  and  the  chief  offenders.  He  became  a  rebel,  but  a 
glorious  rebel  whom  our  consciences  justify  and  our  hearts 
revere.  It  was  the  22nd  of  June  1680,  just  twelve  months 
since  the  calamity  of  Bothwell  Brig.  On  that  day  the  ancient 
burgh  of  Sanquhar  was  startled  by  the  appearance  of  twenty 
men  on  horseback,  who  rode  slowly  up  the  main  street,  with 
swords  drawn  and  pistols  in  their  hands.  When  they  arrived 
at  the  market,  two  of  them  dismounted  and  walked  to  the 


272  '         MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Cross,  while  the  rest  formed  a  circle  round,  and  the  inhabitants 
flocked  to  the  spot.  The  two  who  had  dismounted  were 
Eichard  Cameron  and  his  brother  Michael.  A  psalm  was 
sung ;  a  prayer  was  offered ;  after  which  Michael  read  a 
paper  amid  the  breathless  attention  of  the  crowd.  It  was 
the  Sanquhar  Declaration  —  a  meaningful  and  momentous 
Declaration. 

"Although  we  be  for  government  and  governors,  such 
as  the  Word  of  God  and  our  Covenant  allows,  yet  we  for 
ourselves,  and  all  that  will  adhere  to  us,  as  the  representative  of 
the  true  Presbyterian  Kirk  and  Covenanted  nation  of  Scotland, 
considering  the  great  hazard  of  lying  under  such  a  sin  any 
longer,  do  by  this  present  disown  Charles  Stuart,  that  has  been 
reigning — or  rather  tyrannising,  as  we  may  say — on  the  throne 
of  Britain  these  years  bygone,  as  having  any  right,  title  to,  or 
interest  in  the  crown  of  Scotland.  We  declare  that,  several 
years  since,  he  should  have  been  denuded  of  being  king,  ruler 
or  magistrate,  or  of  having  any  power  to  act,  or  to  be  obeyed 
as  such.  As  also  we,  being  under  the  standard  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  Captain  of  Salvation,  do  declare  war  with  such 
a  tyrant  and  usurper,  and  all  the  men  of  his  practices,  as 
enemies  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  His  cause  and  Covenants  ; 
and  against  all  such  as  have  strengthened  him,  sided  with,  or 
anywise  acknowledged  him  in  his  tyranny,  civil  or  ecclesiastic." 
These  were  the  cardinal  sentences.  When  the  document  had 
been  read,  Michael  Cameron  affixed  it  to  the  Cross.  Another 
prayer  was  presented  to  God.  And  then  the  twenty  horsemen 
formed  again  in  rank,  and,  their  mission  fulfilled,  returned  to 
the  hills  and  caves  from  which  they  had  come. 

What  had  they  done  ?  They  had  cast  off  the  authority  of 
their  monarch.  But  they  had  not  done  it  in  mischievous 
anarchy  and  blatant  revolt.  They  made  their  abjuration  a 
religious  act.  They  prefaced  and  followed  the  oath  of 
insurrection  by  the  worship  of  God.  Moreover,  they  had 
disavowed  King  Charles  in  the  interest  of  King  Jesus.  They 
disobeyed  the  unworthy  ruler,  that  they  might  obey  the  Euler 
who  is  incomparable.  They  set  aside  a  despotism,  in  order  to 
establish  a   theocracy.     "  Think   ye,"  asked   Queen   Mary   of 


KiCHAED  Cameron's  monument  at  aybsmoss. 


THE  LION  OP^  THE  COVENANT  273 

John  Knox,  "  that  subjects,  having  power,  may  resist  their 
princes  ?  "  "  If  their  princes  exceed  their  bounds,"  quoth  he, 
"  Madam,  and  do  against  that  wherefore  they  should  be  obeyed, 
it  is  no  doubt  but  they  may  be  resisted."  "  Well,  then,"  she 
continued,  "  I  perceive  that  my  subjects  shall  obey  you  and 
not  me."  "  God  forbid,"  he  rejoined,  "  that  ever  I  take  upon 
me  to  command  any  to  obey  me,  or  yet  to  set  subjects  at 
liberty  to  do  what  pleaseth  them.  But  my  travail  is  that 
both  princes  and  subjects  obey  God."  The  Cameronians,  the 
men  who  assented  to  the  daring  deed  done  in  Sanquhar,  were 
simply  translating  into  act  the  wholesome  patriotism  of  John 
Knox.  We  may  not  approve  every  phrase  in  their  Declaration. 
We  may  not  like  its  revengeful  conclusion:  "And  we  hope, 
after  this,  none  will  blame  us  for,  or  offend  at,  our  rewarding 
those  that  are  against  us  as  they  have  done  to  us,  as  the  Lord 
gives  opportunity."  But  it  contends  for  the  essentials,  for  a 
free  Parliament  and  an  unshackled  Church.  Its  principles 
triumphed  in  1688.  What  was  treason,  when  the  Hillmen 
proclaimed  it,  was  the  Eevolution  Settlement,  when  William 
of  Orange  drove  James  from  Whitehall.  The  rebels  were  the 
forerunners  of  the  happier  era.  Others  entered  into  their 
labours.  The  nation  reaped  the  harvest  which,  in  a  boisterous 
spring,  twenty  adventurous  men  had  sown. 

After  Sanquhar,  the  death  of  the  chief  participant  in  the 
drama  could  not  be  distant.  One  of  the  seals  of  the  Moravian 
Church  is  the  picture  of  an  ox,  and  on  this  side  of  it  a  plough, 
and  on  that  an  altar,  so  that  it  is  prepared  either  for  labour  or 
for  sacrifice.  It  might  have  been  Cameron's  crest.  Now  we 
hear  him  longing  for  the  incorruptible  inheritance,  but  yet 
praying  for  patience ;  at  another  moment  we  see  him  busy  to 
the  last  in  his  ministry  in  his  fields.  On  the  latest  Sabbath  of 
his  life,  when  Cargill  was  with  him,  his  sermon  was  on  the 
text,  Be  still,  and  hioiv  that  I  am  God.  When  the  service  was 
over,  he  arranged  with  his  friend  that,  a  fortnight  afterwards, 
they  should  preach  together  once  more.  But,  before  the 
fortnight  was  ended,  he  had  got  his  discharge  from  earth  and 
his  entrance  into  heaven. 

On  the  night  of  the  21st  of  July,  he  slept  in  the  farmhouse 
18 


274  MEN  OP^  THE  COVENANT 

of  William  Mitchel  in  Meadowhead.at  the  Water  of  Ayr.     Out 
on  a  slope  of  the  moor,  under  the  sky,  his  bodyguard  snatched 
what  rest  they  could ;  for,  during  that  week,  he  was  attended 
by  about  forty  foot  and  twenty  horse.     "  They  were  of  one 
heart  and  soul,"  "says   Patrick   Walker,  "their  company  and 
converse  being  so  edifying  and  sweet ;  and,  having  no  certain 
dwelling-place,  they  stayed  together,  waiting  for  further  light 
in  that  nonsuch  juncture   of   time."     In  the  morning,  at  his 
request,  the  farmer's  young  daughter  gave  him  water  to  wash 
his  hands ;  and,  when  he   had  dried  them  with   a  towel,  he 
looked  to  them,  and  laid  them  on  his  face,  and  said,  "  This  is 
their  last  washing ;  I  have  need  to  make  them  clean,  for  there 
are  many  to  see  them."     Her  mother  wept ;  but,  like  his  Lord 
before  him,  he  bade  her,  "  Weep  not  for  me,  but  for  yourself 
and  yours,  and  for  the  sins  of  a  sinful  land ;  for  ye  have  many 
melancholy,   sorrowful,   weary   days    before  you."     Bruce    of 
Earlshall,   a    Fifeshire    proprietor,  was   in    command   of  the 
soldiers — Lord  Airlie's  troop   and  Strachan's  dragoons — who 
had  been  sent  by  Dalzell  to  seek  for  Cameron.     Tlie  pitiful 
ingredient  in  the  story  is  that  they  seem  to  have  been  informed 
of  his  whereabouts  by  Sir  John  Cochrane,  who  himself  claimed 
to  be  of  one  mind  with  the  Covenanters,  but  whom  the  stricter 
party  would  have  described  as  among  the  "  dumb  dogs  "  that 
did  not  bark.     At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  22nd — 
it  was  a  Thursday — the  pursuers  came  on  the  little  band,  lying 
in  the  east  end  of  Ayrsmoss,  a  bleak  stretch  of  mossy  ground 
extending    through    part    of     the    three    parishes    of    Sorn, 
Auchinleck,  and  Muirkirk.     When  Kichard  Cameron  saw  the 
enemy  advancing,  he  gathered  his  men  round  him,  and  led  them 
in  prayer.     There  was  no  leisure  for   a  multitude  of  words, 
no   space  for   anything   but  one    of  those    swift    and  strong 
ejaculations  which  carry  the  Kingdom  of   Heaven  by  force. 
Three  times  he  cried,  "  Lord,  spare  the  green,  and  take  the 
ripe !  "     Then  he  looked  to  his  brother,  brother  by  spiritual  as 
by  natural  ties.     "  Michael,"  he  said,  "  come,  let  us  fight  it  out 
to  the  last !     For  this  is  the  day  that  I  have  longed  for,  and 
the  death  that  I  have  prayed  for,  to  die  fighting  against  our 
Lord's  enemies  ;  and  this  is  the  day  that  we  will  get  the  crown." 


MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT  275 

To  the  rest  he  cried,  "  Be  encouraged,  all  of  you,  to  figlit  it  out 
valiantly ;  for  all  of  you  that  shall  fall  this  day,  I  see  Heaven's 
gates  cast  wide  open  to  receive  them."  It  was  an  encounter  of 
cavalry,  the  foot  soldiers  scarcely  needing  to  do  anything. 
The  Covenanters  strove  like  heroes;  but  they  were  out- 
numbered, and  the  end  was  sure.  Nine  of  their  horsemen  lay 
dead ;  and  one  of  the  nine  was  Eichard  Cameron. 

So  he  whom  men  named  the  Lion  of  the  Covenant  sped  to 
God,  and  laid  down  in  His  breast  that  fiery  spirit  of  his ;  he 
was  no  more  than  thirty-two  years  of  age.  Michael,  too, 
fought  his  last  fight  on  the  lonely  Ayrsmoss.  They  took 
liichard's  head  and  hands  to  Edinbui-gh ;  and  the  man  who 
had  cut  them  off  declared,  as  he  delivered  them  to  the  Privy 
Council,  "  There's  the  head  and  hands  that  lived  praying  and 
preaching,  and  died  praying  and  fighting  " — no  mean  panegyric 
to  be  spoken  by  the  lips  of  an  enemy.  Old  Allan  Cameron, 
the  father,  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Tolbooth,  incarcerated 
because  of  the  help  he  gave  the  conventicles  near  his  own 
town  of  Falkland.  On  their  way  to  the  Netherbow,  where 
they  meant  to  fix  them  up,  they  carried  head  and  hands  to 
him,  "  to  add  grief  to  his  sorrow."  "  Do  you  know  them  ? " 
they  asked.  And  he  took  them  upon  his  knee,  and  bent  over 
them,  and  kissed  them,  and  said,  "  I  know  them !  I  know 
them !  They  are  my  son's,  my  dear  son's."  And  then, 
weeping  and  yet  praising,  he  went  on,  "  It  is  the  Lord ! 
Good  is  the  will  of  the  Lord,  who  cannot  wrong  me  nor 
mine,  but  has  made  goodness  and  mercy  to  follow  us  all  our 
days." 

One  of  the  prisoners  who  was  taken,  bleeding  and  almost 
lifeless,  at  Ayrsmoss  was  reserved  for  a  fearful  doom.  It  was 
Hackston  of  Rathillet.  In  the  fight  he  had  inflicted  many 
wounds ;  for  he  was  a  deft  swordsman.  He  was  assailed  from 
right  and  left,  and  maintained  the  battle  as  if  its  issue 
depended  on  himself  alone.  At  last  his  horse  was  trapped  in 
the  marshy  ground,  and  so  was  that  of  one  of  the  foremost  of  the 
troopers,  David  Eamsay — a  man  "of  my  acquaintance,"  as 
Hackston  relates,  grimly  enough,  in  the  narrative  which  he 
drew  up  in  the  Tolbooth.     The  two  fought  a  while  on  foot, 


276  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

very  evenly  matched;  but  three  dragoons  from  behind, 
taking  a  dishonourable  advantage,  struck  Hackston  on  the 
head.  He  fell,  and  surrendered  as  Eamsay's  prisoner.  "  They 
gave  us  all  testimony,"  he  says,  and  his  soldierly  heart  was 
proud  of  the  confession  extorted  from  his  foes — "  they  gave  us 
all  testimony  of  being  brave,  resolute  men."  He  had  need  of 
every  particle  of  the  bravery  and  resolution.  In  Edinburgh, 
eight  days  after,  they  meted  out  to  him  an  awful  death.  We 
are  horrified  as  we  read  the  sentence  in  the  minutes  of  the 
Council :  "  That  his  body  be  drawn  backward  on  a  hurdle  to 
the  Mercat  Cross ;  that  there  be  an  high  scaffold  erected  a 
little  above  the  Cross,  where,  in  the  first  place,  his  right  hand 
is  to  be  struck  off,  and,  after  some  time,  his  left  hand ;  then  he 
is  to  be  hanged  up,  and  cut  down  alive,  his  bowels  to  be  taken 
out,  and  his  heart  shown  to  the  people  by  the  hangman ;  then 
his  heart  and  his  bowels  to  be  burned  in  a  fire  prepared  for 
that  purpose  on  the  scaffold ;  that,  afterwards,  his  head  be  cut 
off,  and  his  body  divided  into  four  quarters ;  his  head  to  be 
fixed  on  the  Netherbow;  one  of  his  quarters  with  both  his 
hands  to  be  affixed  at  St.  Andrews,  another  quarter  at 
Glasgow,  a  third  at  Leith,  a  fourth  at  Burntisland ;  that 
none  presume  to  be  in  mourning  for  him,  or  any  coffin 
brought ;  that  no  person  be  suffered  to  be  on  the  scaffold  with 
him,  save  the  two  bailies,  the  executioner  and  his  servants ; 
that  he  be  allowed  to  pray  to  God  Almighty,  but  not  to  speak 
to  the  people ;  that  Hackston's  and  Cameron's  heads  be 
fixed  on  higher  poles  than  the  rest."  The  permission  to 
pray.  Professor  Herkless  says,  is  the  one  human  thing  in 
this  devilish  verdict,  devised  by  the  Privy  Council  which 
governed  Scotland  in  the  name  of  Charles  Stuart,  King 
by  the  grace  of  God  and  Defender  of  the  Faith.  Through 
flame  and  through  flood,  a  flame  seven  times  intensified,  a 
flood  swelling  to  the  brim,  David  Hackston  of  Kathillet  went 
to  the  land  where  the  sun  does  not  light  on  the  citizens 
nor  any  heat,  and  where  there  is  no  more  sea  of  tunnilt  and 
peril. 


CHAPTER   XXV.     • 

BREAKER  AND  BUILDER  OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW. 

THE  Sabbath  after  Ayrsmoss,  preaching  in  the  parish  of 
Shotts,  Donald  Cargill  chose  for  his  text,  Know  ye  not 
that  there  is  a  prince  and  a  great  man  fallen  this  day  in  Israel  ? 
It  was  Eichard  Cameron's  funeral  sermon  that  he  preached, 
the  elegy  for  the  young  soldier  of  Christ  on  whom  he  leaned 
as  on  a  staff  that  would  not  fail.  For  "  that  blest  singular 
Christian,  Mr.  Cargill,"  was  thirty  summers  older  than  the 
Timothy  who  had  none  of  Timothy's  fearfulness  in  his 
temperament ;  and  it  would  have  been  a  joy  to  retain  by  his 
side  a  knight  so  good.  One  of  the  most  attractive  among  the 
leaders  of  the  Covenant  is  Donald  Cargill.  His  nature  was 
timid  and  shrinking,  and  yet  he  learned  for  his  Master's  sake 
to  trample  his  alarms  under  foot.  He  was  disposed  to 
depreciate  himself,  and  nevertheless  he  kept  the  flag  flying 
when  others  were  too  panic-stricken  to  unfurl  its  folds.  The 
son  of  Laurence  Cargill,  notary  and  gentleman,  he  was  born  in 
the  Perthshire  town  of  Kattray,  probably  in  1619 ;  but  it  was 
not  until  1655,  when  he  was  leaving  his  youth  behind,  that  he 
was  ordained  minister  of  the  Barony  Church  in  Glasgow — the 
Church  which  met  then  in  the  crypt  of  the  Cathedral.  His  father, 
indeed,  had  experienced  much  difficulty  in  persuading  him  to 
undertake  the  study  of  divinity,  and  to  dedicate  his  life  to  the 
preacher's  work ;  who  was  he,  he  thought  with  himself,  that 
he  should  aspire  to  a  calling  so  sacred  ?  But,  having  once  put 
his  hand  to  the  plough,  Donald  Cargill  never  turned  back. 

For  only  seven  years  did  he  speak  on  behalf  of  Christ 
within  the  shelter  of  sanctuary  walls ;  he  was  ejected  by  the 
Earl  of  Middleton's  Act  in  the  winter  of  1662.     But  it  was 


278  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

after  his  expulsion  that  his  effective  ministry  began.  In 
private  houses  and  in  the  conventicles  of  the  fields,  when  "  the 
Lord  had  pity  on  this  weather-beaten  Church,  and  sent  forth 
a  thaw-wind  and  spring-tide  day  of  the  Gospel,"  there  was 
none  more  untiring  than  he.  With  the  exception  of  a  short 
time  spent  in  Holland,  he  never  was  away  from  the  place  of 
duty  and  jeopardy ;  other  and  quieter  surroundings  would  not 
have  satisfied  his  heart ;  he  was  ready  to  subscribe  to  Alexander 
Shields's  dictum  that  "  the  ill  of  Scotland  he  found  everywhere, 
but  the  good  of  Scotland  he  found  nowhere."  There  were  no 
family  ties  to  place  restraint  on  his  activities ;  within  a  year 
and  a  day  of  their  marriage,  God's  finger  had  beckoned  from 
him  his  wife,  Margaret  Brown ;  Cargill  was  lonely,  except  for 
the  affection  of  the  hill-folk  who  loved  him  for  the  messages 
he  brought,  and  for  the  unfailing  presence  of  Father  and  Son 
and  Holy  Ghost.  But,  like  one  of  his  Covenanting  friends,  he 
scarcely  missed  the  sweet  endearments  of  home.  "  I  have 
been  taken  up  in  meditating  on  heavenly  things,"  he,  too, 
could  say ;  "  I  have  been  upon  the  banks  of  Ulai,  plucking  an 
apple  here  and  there." 

Timorous  although  he  was  in  his  disposition,  he  could  do 
things  as  audacious  as  the  Lion  of  the  Covenant  himself.  The 
Queeusferry  Paper,  the  precursor  of  the  Sanquhar  Declaration, 
was  one  proof  of  his  courage.  Perhaps  Cameron  helped  in  its 
composition ;  but  it  is  generally  ascribed  to  the  older  man.  It 
was  a  bond  strong  in  its  affirmations  and  denials.  It  made 
solemn  confession  of  religious  faith,  and  just  as  frankly  it 
disavowed  the  sinful  rulers.  Proceeding  further  yet,  it  boldly 
declared  in  favour  of  a  Ptepublic.  "  We  shall  no  more  commit 
the  government  of  ourselves,  and  the  making  of  laws  for  us,  to 
any  one  single  person,  or  lineal  successor,  we  not  being  by  God, 
as  the  Jews  were,  bound  to  one  single  family ;  and  this  kind 
of  government  by  a  single  person  being  most  liable  to  incon- 
veniences, and  aptest  to  degenerate  into  tyranny,  as  long  and 
sad  experience  hath  taught  us."  The  document  is  the  most 
advanced  of  all  the  Covenanting  manifestoes.  But  it  was 
never  published  by  the  Covenanters  themselves ;  it  was  stolen 
from   them   by   their    enemies ;    and,   when    that   happened, 


BREAKER  AND  BUILDER  OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW    279 

Donald  Cargill  came  near  meeting  his  death.  It  was  the  3rd 
of  June  1680;  and  he  was  in  Queensferry,  with  Henry  Hall, 
who  had  been  much  with  him  in  his  many  wanderings.  Hear- 
ing of  their  presence,  the  Governor  of  Blackness  Castle  took  a 
single  servant,  and  discovered  them  in  an  inn.  He  hoped  that 
soon  his  soldiers  would  come  up  to  his  assistance ;  but,  when 
they  procrastinated,  he  threw  off  all  disguises,  and  told  the 
two  that  they  must  regard  themselves  as  his  prisoners.  They 
demurred,  and  a  struggle  followed.  In  the  confusion  Cargill 
escaped ;  but  Hall  was  wounded  and  made  captive.  By  and 
by,  on  the  road  to  Edinburgh,  he  died ;  and  it  was  when  his 
clothes  were  searched  that  the  compromising  and  uncompro- 
mising Paper  was  found. 

But  "  blest  Cargill "  was  in  no  wise  deterred  from  pressing 
on  in  his  crusade.  Two  months  after  Cameron  had  "  mounted 
the  chariot  and  steeds  of  salvation,"  he  did  what  some  of  his 
friends  condemned.  At  a  great  gathering  at  Torwood,  on  the 
road  between  Larbert  and  Stirling,  he  preached  from  that 
tremendous  oracle  of  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  Thus  saith  the  Lord 
God,  Remove  the  diadem  and  take  off  the  crown ;  and,  when  the 
sermon  was  finished,  he  went  on,  in  well-weighed  words,  to 
excommunicate  Charles  Stuart,  King  of  England ;  James,  Duke 
of  York ;  James,  Duke  of  Monmouth  ;  John,  Duke  of  Lauder- 
dale ;  John,  Duke  of  Eothes ;  the  King's  Advocate,  Sir  George 
Mackenzie ;  and  Thomas  Dalzell,  of  Binns.  "  And,  as  the 
causes  are  just,  so,  being  done  by  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and 
in  such  a  way  as  the  present  persecution  would  admit  of,  the 
sentence  is  just ;  and  there  are  no  kings  or  ministers  on  earth 
who,  without  repentance  of  the  persons,  can  reverse  these 
sentences.  God,  who  is  their  Author,  is  the  more  engaged  to 
the  ratifying  of  them  ;  and  all  that  acknowledge  the  Scriptures 
ought  to  acknowledge  them."  In  a  letter  which  the  Bishop  of 
Edinburgh,  on  the  18th  of  September,  wrote  to  Lauderdale,  we 
can  read  the  amazement  and  rage  of  the  prelates  at  the  deed 
of  the  humble  preacher.  He  sends.  Bishop  Paterson  says,  "  a 
copie  of  that  treasonable  and  sacriligious  sentence  pronunced 
last  Lord's  day  by  Mr.  Donald  Cargill  in  a  numerous  field 
conventicle   at   the   Torwood,   where  manie   were    in   armes. 


28o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Your  Grace  wes  forgotten  by  him  in  the  fornoon ;  but 
uncanonicallie  he  brought  you  up  in  the  afternoon,  and,  after 
ane  scurrilous  apologie  for  his  ommission,  he  proceeded  with 
his  blunt  thunder  against  you.  This  spirit  of  profannes  and 
blood  hath  here  arrived  to  the  height  of  dementation  and 
maddnes,  and  is  ane  verie  angrie  dispensation  of  God's  judge- 
ment upon  that  ungodlie  and  ungovernable  tribe."  But, 
although  the  ferocity  of  enemies  was  only  enhanced,  and  even 
brothers  in  the  faith  were  more  than  dubious,  and  in  the  clear 
dry  light  of  prudence  and  sagacity  we  may  decide  that 
Cargill  did  a  rash  thing,  there  is  something  august  and 
magnificent  in  the  spectacle  of  a  poor,  ageing,  hunted 
minister  announcing  the  displeasure  of  high  Heaven  against 
the  powers  and  principalities  that  swayed  the  destiny  of 
the  country. 

In  all  likelihood,  however,  most  of  us  will  prefer  to  recall 
Donald  Cargill  in  his  softer  and  more  purely  spiritual  moods. 
In  many  of  his  sermons  he  never  touched  on  the  misdoings  of 
the  King  and  the  guiltiness  of  the  land ;  he  was  the  votary  of 
nobler  thoughts.  "  I  have  followed  holiness,"  he  said,  when  he 
came  to  die  ;  "  I  have  taught  truth ;  I  have  been  most  in  the 
main  things ;  not  that  I  esteemed  the  things  concerning  our 
times  little."  His  sermons  were  briefer  than  those  of  the 
majority  of  his  brethren.  "  Some  spoke  to  him  that  he 
preached  and  prayed  short,  saying,  '  0,  sir,  'tis  long  betwixt 
meals,  and  we  are  in  a  starving  condition.  All  is  good,  sweet, 
and  wholesome,  which  ye  deliver  ;  but  why  do  you  straiten  us 
so  much  for  shortness  ? ' "  He  returned  a  wise  as  well  as  a  self- 
abnegating  answer.  "  Ever  since  I  bowed  a  knee  in  good 
earnest  to  pray,  I  never  durst  pray  and  preach  with  my  gifts ; 
and  where  my  heart  is  not  affected,  and  comes  not  up  with  my 
mouth,  I  always  thought  it  time  for  me  to  quit  it.  What 
comes  not  from  my  heart,  I  have  little  hope  that  it  will  go  to 
the  heart  of  others."  Cor  ad  cor:  the  motto  of  a  man,  who 
stood  at  the  opposite  pole  in  the  w^orld  of  theologians  and 
saints,  was  his  motto  too ;  and,  because  it  was,  the  power  of 
his  Lord  was  present  with  him  to  heal  very  many.  We  are 
sure  that,  now  and  then,  as  with  another  of  the  conventiclers, 


BREAKER  AND  BUILDER  OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW    281 

there  was  during  the  sermon  "  a  small  dissle  of  warm  rain  " ; 
but  he  would  be  "  as  sensible  of  a  dissle  of  the  dew  of  heaven 
upon  his  own  soul  and  the  souls  of  that  people  "  ;  the  years  of 
hot  persecution  were  also  years  of  God's  right  hand.  He  did 
not  pray  at  much  length  in  public,  Cargill  said,  lest  he  should 
be  praying  with  his  own  gifts  and  not  with  the  divine  Spirit's 
graces ;  but  he  never  wearied  of  private  devotion.  From  his 
youth  he  loved  the  solitary  place ;  and  more  than  once  he 
continued  whole  nights  in  fellowship  with  his  Father.  He  had 
his  distinctive  attitude  when  he  talked  to  God.  "It  was 
observed  by  some,  both  in  families  and  when  in  secret,  he 
always  sat  "straight  upon  his  knees,  without  resting  upon 
anything,  with  his  hands  lifted  up  ;  and  some  took  notice  he 
died  the  same  way,  with  the  bloody  rope  about  his  neck," 
Happy  man,  to  live  and  to  die  in  perfect  familiarity  of  trust 
with  his  King  and  Friend  ! 

It  has  been  said  that  Scottish  religion  walks  among  shadows 
and  doubts.  Its  children,  we  are  told,  have  not  a  stable  and 
gladsome  conviction  of  salvation;  they  cling  at  best  to  a 
solicitous  hope  ;  they  are  seldom  persuaded  that  they  have 
passed  from  death  to  life.  Mr.  Stevenson,  who  should  speak 
with  some  authority,  contrasts  Camisard  and  Covenanter,  not 
to  the  advantage  of  the  latter.  "  Those  who  took  to  the  hills 
for  conscience'  sake  in  Scotland  had  all  gloomy  and  bedevilled 
tlioughts;  for  once  that  they  received  God's  comfort  they 
would  be  twice  engaged  with  Satan ;  but  the  Camisards  had 
only  bright  and  supporting  visions.  They  knew  they  were  on 
God's  side,  with  a  knowledge  that  has  no  parallel  among  the 
Scots ;  for  the  Scots,  although  they  might  be  certain  of  the 
cause,  could  never  rest  confident  of  the  person."  But,  as  one 
dips  deeper  into  Covenanting  story,  the  conclusion  grows 
irresistible  that  the  antithesis  is  exaggerated ;  and  that  Whig 
preachers  and  listeners,  if  outwardly  they  often  wintered  on 
hills  of  snow,  "  summered  high  in  bliss  upon  the  hills  of  God." 
Cargill,  at  least,  once  the  great  transaction  was  done,  had  no 
annoying  visitations  from  the  spectres  of  the  mind.  One  day 
he  gave  Eobert  Wodrow's  father  a  scrap  of  autobiography.  In 
his  youth,  he  said,  he  fell  under  deep  soul-exercise,  and  no 


282  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

relief  came,  and  the  trouble  increased,  until  he  determined  to 
make  away  with  his  life.  But  when  he  was  standing,  in  the 
early  morniug  before  anybody  was  about,  on  the  brink  of  the 
coal-pit  into  whose  darkness  he  meant  to  throw  himself,  he 
heard  an  unmistakable  voice  from  the  skies,  Son,  he  of  good  cheer, 
thy  sins  he  forgiven  thee!  It  w^as  not  only  the  advent  of  deliver- 
ance, when  deliverance  was  needed  most ;  it  was  the  beginning 
of  an  inward  peace  which  never  faltered  nor  fled  from  the 
recipient.  At  the  end,  with  the  scaffold  waiting,  he  wrote  that 
he  had  not  been  "  without  an  assurance  of  his  interest  in  Christ 
these  thirty  years,"  and  that  he  "  never  durst  undertake  to 
preach  salvation  to  others  until  he  was  sure  of  his  own."  The 
Delectable  Mountains  were  Donald  Cargill's  home. 

But  he  was  always  willing  to  descend  from  their  heights 
and  raptures,  to  cure  what  was  ailing  and  set  right  what  was 
wrong.  In  the  later  years  of  the  Persecution,  there  arose 
among  the  Covenanters,  to  the  grief  of  all  wise  and  godly 
men,  a  little  sect  of  fanatics  with  "demented  enthusiastical 
delusions."  They  were  known  as  the  Sweet  Singers,  or,  more 
frequently,  as  the  Gibbites,  from  the  sailor,  John  Gib,  who 
was  their  leader  and  propliet.  None  of  the  field-preachers 
but  was  in  their  stringent  eyes  a  backslider  and  enemy.  They 
would  pay  no  taxes.  They  left  house  and  family  and  occupa- 
tion for  the  desert  places,  where,  as  they  imagined,  they  should 
be  free  from  snares  and  sins ;  some  of  them  repairing  to  the 
Pentland  Hills,  with  the  resolution  to  remain  there  until 
they  saw  the  smoke  and  ruin  of  the  bloody  city  of  Edinburgh. 
They  were  continually  fasting,  and  continually  singing  their 
penitential  and  dirge-like  Psalms — the  74th,  the  79th,  the 
80th,  the  83rd,  the  137th.  To  these  poor  Gibbites,  four  men 
and  six-and-tweuty  women,  Cargill  made  a  pilgrimage  of 
faithfulness  and  love,  finding  them  in  the  midst  of  a  great 
flow-moss  betwixt  Clydesdale  and  Lothian,  and  striving  to 
bring  them  to  a  better  mind.  Out  on  the  moor  he  stayed, 
through  a  night  of  cold,  easterly,  wet  fog,  trying  every  device  to 
effect  their  rescue  from  the  phantasms  which  had  mastered 
them.  But  the  hour  of  penitence  had  not  yet  arrived,  although 
to  most  of  them  it  was  to  come  ere  very  long ;  and  the  mess- 


BREAKER  AND  BUILDER  OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW    2S3 

enger  of  pity  had  to  take  his  departure  with  disappointment  in 
his  soul. 

For  twenty  years  Donald  Cargill,  feeble  in  himself,  but 
strengthened  with  might  by  God's  Spirit  in  the  inner  man, 
pursued  his  hazardous  vocation.  "  We  think,  sir,"  said  his 
friends  to  him  one  night,  "  praying  and  preaching  go  best  with 
you,  when  your  danger  and  distress  is  greatest."  He  answered 
that  it  had  been  so,  and  he  hoped  that  it  would  be  so :  that, 
the  more  adversaries  thrust  at  him  that  he  might  fall,  the  more 
sensibly  and  discernibly  his  Lord  had  helped.  And  then,  as 
his  custom  was,  he  repeated,  quietly,  as  if  to  himself,  a  few 
exultant  words  of  his  favourite  Psalm,  The  Lord  is  my  strength 
and  song,  and  is  hccomc  my  salvation.  William  Vilant,  one  of 
the  ministers  who  had  welcomed  the  screen  and  ease  of  the 
Indulgence,  having  heard  of  Cargill's  patient  and  cheerful 
endurance,  asked,  a  trifle  petulantly,  "  What  needs  all  this  ado  ? 
We  will  get  heaven,  and  they  will  get  no  more."  But  when 
the  retort  was  repeated  to  the  man  of  whom  it  had  been 
uttered,  he  replied — and  the  reply  is  singularly  noble — "  Yes, 
we  will  get  more ;  we  will  get  God  glorified  on  earth,  which  is 
more  than  heaven." 

It  was  the  good  fortune  of  Patrick  Walker  to  hear  blest 
Mr.  Cargill  preach  his  last  sermon.  The  place  was  Dunsyre 
Common.  The  text  was  Isaiah's  counsel.  Come,  Mypeojjle,  enter 
into  your  chamhers.  He  was  short,  marrowy,  and  sententious, 
as  his  ordinary  was.  Nothing  could  exceed  his  overwhelming 
sense  of  the  urgency  of  God's  Word,  or  his  eager  anxiety  to 
win  men ;  nothing  could  be  greater  than  his  indignation  at 
the  unconcernedness  of  hearers.  He  spoke  out  of  experience, 
and  he  touched  a  responsive  chord  in  the  experience  of  every 
one  who  had  tasted  that  God  is  gracious.  "  He  insisted  what 
kind  of  chambers  these  were  of  protection  and  safety,  and 
exhorted  us  all  earnestly  to  dwell  in  the  clefts  of  the  Eock,  to 
hide  ourselves  in  the  wounds  of  Christ,  and  to  wrap  ourselves 
in  the  believing  application  of  the  promises  flowing  therefrom : 
thus  to  make  our  refuge  under  the  shadow  of  His  wings,  until 
these  sad  calamities  pass  over,  and  the  Dove  come  back  with 
the  olive  branch  in  her  mouth.     These  were  the  last  words  of 


284  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

his  last  sermon."  Musical  and  most  tender  words  they 
are. 

The  Dove  with  the  olive  branch,  the  Holy  Ghost  who  is  the 
earnest  of  supersensual  bliss,  was  brooding  over  Donald  Cargill 
while  he  spoke.  Early  next  morning,  in  Covington  Mill,  where 
he  had  rested  overnight,  he  was  captured  by  James  Irvine  of 
Bonshaw,  who  held  a  commission  from  General  Dalzell,  and 
wlio  was  set  on  gaining  the  prize  of  5000  merks  placed  on  the 
preacher's  head.  He  and  the  friends  who  were  seized  with 
him,  Walter  Smith  and  James  Boig,  were  hurried  to  Glasgow, 
and  from  Glasgow  to  Edinburgh.  They  soon  listened  to  their 
sentence.  "  God  knows,"  Cargill  said,  as  he  mounted  the 
ladder,  "  I  go  up  this  ladder  with  less  fear,  confusion,  or  per- 
turbation of  mind,  than  ever  I  entered  a  pulpit  to  preach." 
They  fixed  his  head  on  the  Netherbow,  beside  Eichard  Cameron's, 
the  old  saint  in  communion  once  more  with  the  young.  It 
was  the  27th  of  July  1681,  just  a  year  since  Cameron  had  been 
"  honourably  and  rightly  carried  through." 

The  coincidences  and  contrasts  of  life  are  more  remarkable 
than  those  of  romance.  When  Donald  Cargill  was  a  student 
in  St.  Andrews,  he  had  for  one  of  his  comrades  the  young  Earl 
of  Eothes.  There  is  still  preserved  in  the  University  Library 
the  copy  of  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  which  was  signed 
in  the  Fifeshire  town.  The  first  column  of  the  names  of 
undergraduates  in  St.  Salvator's  College  is  headed  by  Eothes ; 
and  not  far  from  this  signature  stands  the  autograph  of  the 
Eattray  notary's  son.  The  two  had  started  on  their  course 
together.  But  how  soon  they  diverged,  and  how  completely  ! 
In  an  age  of  license,  the  profligacy  and  the  drunkenness  of  the 
Earl  were  notorious ;  he  "  gave  himself,"  Lord  Eountainhall 
says,  "  great  liberty  in  all  sorts  of  pleasures  and  debaucheries." 
He  threw  his  energy  too,  with  peculiar  violence,  into  the  work 
of  persecution.  And,  all  this  while,  his  fellow-student  was,  as 
Cargill  phrased  it,  getting  God  glorified  on  earth,  and  was 
commending  those  things  which  are  true  and  venerable  and 
lovely.  No  separation  could  be  better  defined  or  more  thorough. 
But  once  again,  in  their  deaths,  the  former  associates  were 
brought  strangely  near.     On  the  26th  of  July,  the  very  night 


BREAKER  AND  BUILDER  OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW    285 

before  Cargill  witnessed  his  good  confession,  the  Duke  of  Eothes, 
his  strength  sapped  by  his  intemperance,  found  himself  in  the 
grip  of  the  last  enemy.  He  called  out  that  some  of  his  wife's 
ministers  should  be  summoned  to  Holyrood  to  talk  with  him  ; 
for  his  own  ministers  were  "  good  to  live  with  but  not  to  die 
with."  So  Lady  Anne's  counsellors  were  sent  for ;  and  John 
Carstares  and  George  Johnston  came.  They  spoke  to  the 
nobleman  of  his  sins,  and  told  him  of  the  mercy  which  even 
at  the  last  was  witliin  his  reach.  The  comfortable  word  was 
the  medicine  he  required  ;  but  he  could  not  believe  that  it  was 
designed  for  him.  "  We  all  thought  little,"  he  said  to  John 
Carstares,  "  of  what  Cargill  did  in  excommunicating  us  ;  but  I 
find  that  sentence  binding  upon  me  now,  and  it  will  bind  to 
eternity."  Thus  Lord  Eothes  went  out  into  the  night;  and 
the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  standing  near,  exclaimed,  "  we  banish 
these  men  from  us,  and  yet  when  dying  we  call  for  them :  this 
is  melancholy  work  ! "  The  ending  at  the  Mercat  Cross,  when 
"  the  hangman  hashed  and  bagged  off"  the  martyr's  head  with 
an  axe — was  it  not  more  glorious  than  that  other  ending  within 
the  walls  of  His  Majesty's  palace  of  Holyrood  ? 

High  up  in  the  Alps  are  two  small  lakes,  which  lie  in  such 
proximity  that  it  is  possible  to  throw  a  stone  from  one  to  the 
other.  The  one  is  Lago  Bianco,  the  White  Loch,  because  its 
waters  are  light  green  in  their  colour ;  its  neighbour  is  Lago 
Nero,  or  the  Black  Loch,  for  its  appearance  is  gloomy  and 
forbidding.  But,  although  they  are  so  close,  they  are  on 
different  inclines  of  the  watershed.  Lago  Bianco  sends  its 
overflow  to  the  Adriatic,  while  Lago  Nero  is  connected  with 
the  Black  Sea.  We  look  at  the  one,  and  think  about  the 
sunshine  of  Italy  ;  at  the  other,  and  are  transported  to  the 
wintry  Crimea.  So  men  whose  lives  begin  in  intimate 
union,  with  the  same  aspirations  and  opportunities,  pursue 
their  sundered  courses,  "  breaker  and  builder  of  the  eternal 
law  " — 

One  to  lone  darkness  and  the  frozen  tide, 
One  to  tlie  crystal  sea. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

TWO  OCTOBERS. 

CAMERON  and  Cargill  were  captains  of  the  unbending 
Covenanters.  But  captains  must  have  followers ;  and 
the  two  chiefs,  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,  had  the  support  of 
soldiers  who  were  at  times  evea  more  defiant  than  themselves. 
It  is  impossible  to  approve  always  what  was  said  by  these 
representatives  of  the  Extreme  Right,  although  they  had 
provocation  for  every  scathing  word,  and  we  know  how  hard 
it  is  for  the  victim  to  measure  his  language  when  he  speaks 
of  those  who  pursue  him  to  the  death,  or  of  the  others  who 
fail  him  in  the  hour  of  need.  Still  we  could  wish  that 
"  the  dreadless  angels "  of  the  Church  had  been  gentler  in 
their  verdicts  against  "  silent  and  un watchful  ministers  " — 
ministers  who  "are  become  light  and  treacherous  persons," 
and  "  ravening  wolves,"  and  "  men  of  Shechem "  trusting  in 
the  Abimelech  who  will  beguile  them  to  their  undoing. 
Even  Charles  Stuart  and  "  that  Popish  Duke "  might  have 
been  disowned,  we  are  prone  to  fancy,  in  more  gracious  terms. 
It  was  true,  as  one  of  the  Cameronians  declared,  that  subjects 
"  might  as  well  tie  their  consciences  to  the  devil  and  their 
own  corruptions  "  as  to  the  iniquitous  laws  of  an  evil  Court ; 
but  the  very  trutli  loses  pith  and  pungency  when  it  is 
published  in  accents  which  are  scolding  and  strident.  Yet, 
after  all,  it  is  an  easy  exercise,  in  times  vastly  tolerant,  to  sit 
at  home  and  criticise  the  forefathers,  marching  sternly  through 
the  merciless  storm  ;  and  one  is  almost  angry  with  one's  self 
for  engaging  in  an  occupation  so  cheap. 

And  they  comprehended   the   secret  of  dying,  the   rank 
and   file   no   less    than    the   officers    with    their    far-flashing 


TWO  OCTOBERS  287 

virtues.  Half-way  between  Edinburgh  and  Leith  was  the 
Gallow-Lee,  a  slight  rising  ground  formed  of  sand,  near  the 
spot  where  the  old  tollhouse  stood,  and  on  the  west  side  of 
the  road.  To  the  Gallow-Lee  many  of  the  martyrs  of  the 
persecution  were  taken  to  be  hanged.  It  was  a  place  of 
execution  less  public  than  the  Cross  or  the  Grassmarket, 
where  the  deaths  of  the  Covenanters  drew  together  great 
crowds,  and  where  their  farewell  speeches  made  the  deepest 
impression.  It  was  a  place,  too,  reserved  for  the  punishment 
of  the  worst  criminals  ;  so  that  not  only  was  a  measure  of 
quietness  secured  by  its  adoption,  but  a  new  stigma  of 
reproach  was  branded  on  the  sufferers.  On  Monday,  the 
10th  of  October  1681,  five  humble  men  fought  their  last  fight 
for  Christ's  Crown  and  Covenant  on  the  malefactors'  scaffold 
at  the  Gallow-Lee.  Patrick  Porman  was  one  of  them,  a 
native  of  the  parish  of  Alloa,  and  an  adherent,  as  he  said, 
"  of  that  poor  persecuted  remnant,  that  are  yet  left  as  berries 
on  the  top  of  the  outmost  branches."  At  a  fast-day  service, 
which  Cargill  had  held  on  Loudoun  Hill  six  months  before, 
Patrick  had  well-nigh  attained  the  consummation  of  his  battle. 
For  the  dragoons  appeared,  and  shot  at  the  preacher;  but 
the  musket-ball,  missing  him,  ploughed  its  way  through  the 
listener's  hair.  He  had  escaped  then ;  but  to-day,  beyond 
dispute,  there  was  "  the  king  of  terrors  to  grapple  with  "  and 
to  triumph  over.  David  Parrie  climbed  the  shameful  and 
delightsome  steps  along  with  him — David  Parrie,  who  had 
sat  at  "  the  devil's  fireside "  until  about  four  years  previous 
to  his  martyrdom,  but  who  could  bid  his  friends  now  "  walk 
in  the  sight  of  God  and  man  both,  without  offence ;  and  then, 
if  men  will  be  offended,  let  it  be  for  your  duty  and  not  for 
your  sin."  He  was  one  of  the  dourest  of  Cameroniaus, 
asserting  openly  that  it  was  lawful  to  kill  murderers,  and 
that  the  Kmg  was  a  murderer ;  but  he  had  a  fatherly  heart, 
pulsing  with  a  peculiar  love  for  the  children.  "  O ! "  he 
cried,  "  invite  one  another  to  prayer,  especially  young  folk  ; 
for  I  think,  if  the  Lord  do  good  to  this  generation,  it  will  be 
to  young  folk."  Then  there  was  James  Stewart,  of  whom 
Wodrow  writes  that  he  might  almost  be  termed  a  boy,  a  boy 


288  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

of  serious  iuclinations,  who  never  had  been  engaged  in 
anything  for  which  the  law  should  have  molested  him ;  the 
blood  boils  when  we  read  that,  on  his  refusal  to  answer  some 
questions  put  to  him  on  his  trial,  Sir  George  Mackenzie 
threatened  to  take  out  his  tongue  with  a  pair  of  pincers.  And 
Alexander  Kussel  died  on  the  same  autumn  Monday.  For 
fourteen  years  he  had  listened  to  the  curates,  and  had  been 
addicted  to  drinking  and  profaneness  and  Sabbath-breaking  ; 
but  at  the  first  field-preaching  ever  he  heard,  to  which  he 
went  merely  out  of  idle  inquisitiveness,  it  pleased  the  Lord 
to  convert  him.  Alexander  Russel,  also,  was  prepared  to 
seal  his  faith  with  the  sacrifice  of  his  life. 

But  the  most  interesting  of  the  five  witnesses  of  the 
Gallow-Lee  is  Eobert  Garnock,  whose  story  as  the  slave 
and  friend  of  Christ  may  be  studied  in  the  pages  of  Tlie 
Scots  Worthies.  He  was  born  in  Stirling,  and  had  been 
baptised  by  James  Guthrie ;  he  esteemed  it  a  singular  honour, 
he  said,  to  follow  the  good  shepherd  of  his  boyhood  to  the 
scaffold,  although,  for  many  days  after  the  shepherd's  lifetime 
was  finished,  he  had  himself  been  a  wayward  member  of  the 
flock.  His  was  a  remarkable  spiritual  experience ;  he  was  a 
persecuted  man  long  before  he  felt  the  majesty  and  the  intimacy 
of  divine  grace.  A  blacksmith  in  his  trade,  he  was  forced  to 
abandon  his  work  in  Stirling,  and  to  wander  from  hiding-place 
to  hiding-place,  because  of  his  perseverance  in  attending  the 
conventicles ;  and,  all  this  while,  as  he  confessed  in  the 
later  and  better  time,  "  the  hidden  things  of  godliness  were 
yet  a  mystery  to  me,  and  I  did  not  know  anything  of  the  new 
birth."  It  reminds  us  of  John  Bunyan,  confident  that  he 
pleased  God  as  much  as  any  man  in  England,  because  he  had 
given  up  swearing  and  taken  to  reading  the  historical  parts  of 
the  Bible,  and  was  striving  to  keep  the  commandments ;  and 
yet  there  was  no  heartbreak,  no  revolution  of  soul,  until  the 
brisk  talker  overlieard  three  or  four  poor  women  in  Bedford 
streets  conversing  of  heavenly  matters,  as  they  sat  at  a  door 
in  the  sunshine,  and  realised  that  their  speech  was  far  above 
him,  and  was  compelled  to  remain  silent.  The  same  revelation 
of  his  own  poverty  and  of  Christ's  measureless  supply  was 


THE   NETHERDOW   PORT. 
From  the  East,  as  it  appeared  in  the  Seventeenth  Century. 


TWO  OCTOBERS  289 

granted  to  Eobert  Garnock — granted  when  he  was  seventeen 
or  eighteen  years  of  age,  at  one  of  those  Communions  in  the 
open  air  where  Welsh  and  Blackader  preached.  "  The  20th, 
2l8t,  and  22nd  of  April  1677,"  he  wrote,  with  a  joy  he  could 
not  conceal,  "  were  the  three  most  wonderful  days  with  the 
Lord's  presence  that  ever  I  saw  on  earth.  0,  but  His  power 
was  wonderfully  seen,  and  great  to  all  the  assembly,  especially 
to  me."  Then  began  a  brief  Christian  life  of  which,  so  far  as 
this  world  was  concerned,  the  old  words  are  true — 

Love  is  the  fire,  and  sighs  the  smoke,  the  ashes  shame  and  scorns. 

Garnock  was  captured  at  Stirling  in  the  May  of  1679, 
after  a  skirmish  between  sixty  soldiers  and  a  small  com- 
pany who  had  met  for  the  worship  of  God.  He  lay  in 
prison  untried  for  more  than  two  years ;  and  many  an  effort 
was  made  to  wean  him  to  an  easier  and  less  assertive  devotion 
to  the  Covenants.  But  every  attempt  failed  ;  and  at  length, 
like  Eobert  Browning's  martyr,  his  "  own  release  was  earned," 
and  he  was  sent  to  coronation  and  victory  at  the  Gallow-Lee. 

What  strikes  the  reader  of  his  dying  testimony  is  his 
fulness  of  deliglit  in  the  burden  he  was  permitted  to  carry, 
the  agonies  he  was  honoured  to  undergo,  for  Jesus'  sake. 
Now  that  he  was  "  come  to  have  his  head  cut  off  and  put  upon 
a  port,"  it  seemed  the  day  of  days  to  him.  Had  he  a  thousand 
lives,  he  said,  he  must  think  them  all  too  little  to  be  martyrs 
for  the  truth.  That  night  he  would  indeed  get  his  fill  of  glad- 
ness, for  he  should  be  with  his  Lord  in  paradise.  "  0  sirs !  " 
he  sang,  mounting  into  a  chant  of  ecstasy,  "  His  cross  hath  been 
all  paved  over  with  love  to  me  all  along,  and  it  is  sweeter  now 
than  ever.  0,  will  ye  be  persuaded  to  fall  in  love  with  the 
cross  of  royal  Jesus  ?  Will  ye  be  entreated  to  come  and 
taste  of  His  love  ?  0,  sweet  lot  this  day !  for  me  to  go  to 
a  gibbet  for  Christ  and  His  cause.  I  think  the  thoughts  of 
this  do  ravish  my  heart  and  soul,  and  make  me  to  fall  out  in 
wondering."  Long  before,  and  in  different  surroundings,  the 
author  of  The  Imitation  had  written:  "Jesus  hath  many 
lovers  of  His  heavenly  Kingdom,  but  few  bearers  of  His  Cross. 
He  hath  many  desirous  of  consolation,  but  few  of  tribulation. 
19 


290  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

He  findeth  many  companions  at  His  table,  but  few  of  His 
abstinence.  Many  follow  Him  unto  the  breaking  of  bread, 
but  few  to  the  drinking  of  the  cup  of  His  passion.  .  ,  ,  Yet, 
if  thou  hadst  the  choice,  thou  oughtest  rather  to  wish  to  suffer 
adversities  for  Christ  than  to  be  refreshed  with  many  con- 
solations ;  because  thou  wouldest  thus  be  more  like  unto 
Christ,  and  conformable  to  all  the  saints."  Robert  Garnock, 
once  hammerman  in  Stirling,  had  never  so  much  as  heard  of 
Thomas  k  Kempis,  and  would  have  held  his  name  accursed  if 
some  chance  wind  had  blown  the  rumour  of  it  his  way ;  but 
the  cross-bearers  speak  the  same  dialect,  whether  they  are 
monks  brooding  in  cloisters  over  their  books  or  Cameronian 
recusants  dying  in  the  face  of  the  sun. 

So  these  five  suffered  at  the  Gallow-Lee,  and  their  bodies 
were  buried  below  the  scaffold ;  but  not  until  the  heads  had 
been  stricken  off,  and  put  upon  five  pikes,  and  conveyed  to 
the  Pleasance  Port,  and  there  fastened  in  a  high  and  ghastly 
publicity.  There  were  those,  however,  whose  reverence  for 
the  martyred  men  was  only  enhanced  by  all  these  ignominies. 
In  the  night  the  abused  and  mangled  bodies  were  lifted  by 
faithful  friends,  and  decently  interred  in  the  West  Kirkyard. 
By  and  by  others  dared  in  the  boldness  of  love  to  take  down 
the  heads  from  their  too  prominent  throne,  and  laid  them 
in  one  chest,  and  hid  it  in  Alexander  Tweedie's  garden  at 
the  south-west  corner  of  the  city  wall.  There  they  rested 
through  many  revolving  seasons,  and  in  summer  the  dews 
dropped  cool  above  them,  and  the  snow  in  winter  lay  lightly 
and  warmly  on  their  garden  grave.  Over  the  spot  the  owner 
planted  two  rose  trees,  one  with  white  blossoms,  the  other 
with  red;  and  never  did  rose  trees  anywhere  bloom  into 
such  richness  and  fragrance.  They  became  the  marvel  of  the 
neighbourhood,  although  only  a  few,  who  could  be  trusted  not 
to  betray  it,  understood  the  secret  of  their  splendour.  There 
was  a  treasure,  Alexander  Tweedie  was  wont  to  say,  concealed 
within  his  yard,  but  not  of  gold  or  silver. 

Forty-five  years  ran  on.  The  Persecution  was  little  else  than 
a  piercing  and  loathsome  memory.  Except  by  one  here  and 
another  there,  the  sufferers  of  the  Gallow-Lee  were  forgotten. 


TWO  OCTOBERS  291 

Again  it  was  the  month  of  October — the  7th  of  October  1726. 
A  gardener  was  busy  in  the  old  place  of  flowers  and  fruit,  which 
must  have  been  situated  at  the  upper  end  of  what  afterwards 
was  Lauriston  Lane.  Suddenly  his  spade  turned  up  the  five 
skulls,  the  box  which  once  had  covered  them  having  in  the 
interval  rotted  completely  away.  Alarmed  by  the  discon- 
certing spectacle,  he  hurried  to  Mr.  Shaw,  the  new  owner  of 
the  garden.  But  his  employer  had  some  knowledge  of  what 
had  happened  nearly  half  a  century  back,  and  he  lifted  the 
heads  of  Forman  and  Farrie  and  Stewart  and  Eussel  and 
Garnock,  and  placed  them  side  by  side  on  a  table  in  his 
summer-house.  And  then,  on  the  19th  of  October,  the 
slaughtered  confessors  had  the  honourable  burial  withheld  from 
them  formerly ;  as  Patrick  Walker,  himself  a  leading  actor  in 
the  curious  incident,  is  keen  to  inform  us.  "  We  caused  make 
a  complete  coffin  for  them  in  black,  with  four  yards  of  fine 
linen,  the  way  our  martyr -corpses  were  managed.  And 
having  the  happiness  of  friendly  magistrates  at  the  time,  we 
went  to  the  present  Provost  Drummond  and  Bailie  Nimmo, 
and  acquainted  them  with  our  conclusions  anent  them ;  with 
which  they  were  pleased,  and  said.  If  we  were  sure  that  they 
were  our  martyrs'  heads,  we  might  bury  them  decently  and 
orderly.  .  .  .  Some  pressed  hard  to  go  through  the  chief 
parts  of  the  city,  as  was  done  at  the  Eevolution.  But  this 
we  refused,  considering  that  it  looked  airy  and  frothy  to  make 
such  show,  and  inconsistent  with  the  solid,  serious  observing 
of  such  an  affecting,  surprising,  unheard-of  dispensation ;  but 
took  the  ordinary  way  of  other  burials  from  that  place,  to 
wit,  we  went  east  by  the  back  of  the  Wall,  and  in  at  Bristo 
Port,  and  down  the  way  to  the  head  of  the  Cowgate,  and 
turned  up  to  the  Greyfriars  Churchyard ;  where  they  were 
interred  close  to  the  Martyrs'  Tomb,  with  the  greatest 
multitude  of  people,  old  and  young,  men  and  women,  ministers 
and  others,  that  ever  I  saw  together." 

Thus  those  whom  men  defraud  unrighteously  of  their  dues 
will  sometimes  come  to  their  heritage  at  long  last,  not  simply 
before  the  Great  White  Throne,  but  in  the  lower  world  where 
waters  of  a  full  cup  are  wrung  out  by  the  people  of  God. 


CHAPTER   XXVIl. 

FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS   MR.  BAILLIE. 

THERE  are  two  methods  of  fighting  tyrants.  One  is  open 
and  the  other  is  secret.  One  courts  the  blaze  of  noon- 
day, and  boldly  proclaims  its  purpose  ;  the  other,  for  a  time, 
prefers  to  haunt  the  shadows,  and  matures  its  plans  in  hidden 
places.  When  the  tyranny  has  become  intolerable,  both 
methods  have  their  justification,  and  demand  no  apology 
among  those  who  assent  to  old  John  Barbour's  creed  that 
"  freedom  is  a  noble  thing." 

The  Gameronians  chose  the  open  way.  It  was  in  the 
sun  that  they  unfolded  their  banner.  Richard  Cameron  at 
Sanquhar,  and  Donald  Cargill  at  Torwood,  published  in  the 
country's  hearing  their  stupendous  ultimatum.  They  were 
determined  that,  let  the  issues  be  what  they  might,  men 
should  know  where  they  stood.  And  this  gallant  recklessness 
had  its  reward.  To  themselves  it  brought  the  great  prize  of 
death,  in  battle  or  on  the  martyr's  scaffold.  Into  many  others 
it  breathed  new  heart  and  hope,  making  the  final  deliverance 
more  certain.  Never  let  us  forget  that  the  Hillmen  only  ante- 
dated, by  a  few  years,  the  better  age  of  the  Revolution. 

But  there  were  Whig  politicians  and  patriots,  who,  seeking 
the  same  ends,  took  the  quieter  road.  It  seemed  premature 
and  rash  to  depose  the  King  and  his  minions  in  the  audience 
of  the  world.  In  their  judgment,  just  as  in  that  of  their 
outspoken  allies,  resistance  to  the  Crown  was  now  a  religious 
duty.  They  were  worn  out  by  the  long  continuance  of 
misrule.  They  believed  that,  before  many  months  had  passed, 
the  hour  of  reckoning  must  strike.  They  were  convinced  as 
to  the  necessity  of  bestirring  themselves,  if  they  would  save 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.  BAILLIE     293 

the  cause  of  liberty  and  check  the  leprosy  of  corruption  which 
was  spreading  everywhere.  But  they  wished  to  postpone  the 
explicit  avowal  of  their  schemes.  Until  their  friends  had 
gathered  and  the  propitious  moment  had  arrived,  it  appeared 
the  part  of  wisdom  to  cultivate  a  cautious  and  reticent  spirit. 
These  Whig  statesmen  held  that  there  are  enterprises  which, 
like  mosses  and  ferns,  thrive  at  first  in  the  twilight,  and  may 
wither  if  they  are  exposed  too  soon  to  the  glare  of  day. 

In  July  1681,  James,  Duke  of  York,  the  King's  brother, 
came  down  to  Edinburgh  as  Koyal  Commissioner  in  succession 
to  Lauderdale.  He  was  not  unknown  in  Scotland,  which  he 
had  visited  more  than  once,  and  where  he  had  many  friends. 
But  now  he  seemed  to  have  undergone  a  change  for  the 
worse.  Savage  as  Lauderdale  had  been,  the  old  lion  who  was 
dying  at  Tunbridge  Wells,  the  King's  heir  was  not  a  whit 
more  merciful.  He  showed  himself  bigoted,  saturnine,  hard 
as  the  nether  millstone.  At  once  he  initiated  a  policy,  the 
trend  of  which  could  not  be  mistaken.  Having  called  a 
Parliament,  the  first  that  had  been  convened  for  many  a  day, 
he  compelled  it  to  sanction  two  measures  which  were  a 
significant  index  of  his  character.  One  was  the  Act  of 
Succession,  declaring  that  "  no  difference  in  religion  can 
divert  the  lineal  descent  of  the  Crown."  He  was  himself  an 
unconcealed  Eomanist,  and  the  design  of  the  Act  was  patent ; 
it  was  intended  to  throw  the  shield  of  the  law  over  a  Popish 
king.  The  other  measure  struck  a  blow  even  more  crushing. 
It  was  a  Test,  whicli  all  persons  aspiring  to  any  office  in 
Church  or  State  must  take.  So  stringent  it  was,  so  long- 
winded,  and  at  the  same  time  so  contradictory,  that  eighty 
of  the  Episcopal  clergymen  of  the  country  refused  to  be 
bound  by  it,  and,  resigning  their  benefices,  withdrew  to 
England.  Sir  James  Dalrymple,  the  President  of  the  Court 
of  Session,  gave  up  his  dignities  rather  than  pledge  himself 
to  obligations  which  were  impossible  to  fulfil.  And  the  Earl 
of  Argyll,  son  of  the  great  Marquis,  and  a  man  who  had 
striven  to  maintain  his  loyalty  under  immense  difficulties,  said 
that  he  would  swear  the  Test  only  in  so  far  as  it  was  con- 
sistent with  itself,  and  in  so  far,  too,  as  it  did  not  engage  him 


294  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

to  do  anything  against  the  Protestant  faith.  For  this 
explication,  as  it  was  styled,  he  was  thrown  into  prison  in 
the  Castle  of  Edinburgh;  and,  if  he  had  not  escaped  in  the 
disguise  of  a  page,  holding  up  the  train  of  his  stepdaughter, 
the  Lady  Sophia  Lindsay,  he  would  have  been  executed 
within  a  few  days. 

Things  were  serious  enough  in  the  Scotland  which  the 
Duke  of  York  ruled,  although  gleams  of  humour  shot  through 
the  Egyptian  darkness.  This  was  the  time  when  the  boys 
of  Heriot's  Hospital  resolved  to  administer  the  Test  to  their 
watchdog.  Greatly  daring,  they  turned  into  a  jest  the  rambling 
and  illogical  and  terrible  oath.  The  dog  sensibly  refused  to 
eat  the  paper  on  which  they  had  written  out  the  enactment. 
Even  when  they  smeared  it  with  butter,  that  the  vexatious 
sentences  might  be  more  palatable,  the  sagacious  animal 
licked  the  butter  off,  and  then  discarded  the  essential 
parchment.  So,  having  gone  through  such  a  mock-trial  as 
had  been  given  to  the  Earl  of  Argyll,  they  gravely  hanged 
the  nonjuror  for  his  obstinacy.  One  may  be  permitted  a  sigh 
over  the  sufferer's  undeserved  fate  ;  but  is  it  not  good  to  hear 
the  children's  laughter  pealing  through  the  cheerless  midnight  ? 
Men  and  women  could  not  laugh.  They  feared  for  themselves 
and  for  their  friends,  whenever  they  caught  sight  of  the  King's 
Commissioner.  Bishop  Burnet  tells  us  how,  when  the  other 
members  of  the  Privy  Council  used  to  leave  the  chamber  if 
a  prisoner  was  to  be  tortured  in  the  Boots,  unable  to  look  on 
at  the  excruciating  process,  the  Duke  remained  and  took  note 
of  all  that  was  done,  as  if  he  were  watching  a  curious  experi- 
ment in  science.  Under  the  morose  face  there  seemed  to  be 
a  heart  of  stone. 

We  do  not  wonder  that  righteous  men  became  conspirators. 
In  England,  through  the  whole  of  1682,  the  great  Whig  plot 
had  been  moving  forward.  It  aimed  at  accomplishing  a 
revolution,  but  a  revolution  which  should  leave  a  constitu- 
tional monarchy  behind,  and  whicli  should  simply  exclude 
James  from  the  throne.  The  leaders  were  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  Lord  William  Eussell,  Lord  Essex,  and  Sir 
Algernon  Sidney.     Monmouth,  the  illegitimate  son  of  Charles, 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.  BAILLIE     295 

and  the  commander  of  the  Eoyal  troops  at  Bothwell  Bridge, 
had  no  genuine  moral  strength,  and  was  governed  mainly  by 
his  fondness  for  popularity  and  position ;  but  the  others  were 
patriots  of  the  purest  kind.  They  were  anxious  to  gain  and 
keep  the  goodwill  of  the  malcontents  among  the  gentlemen 
of  Scotland.  They  corresponded  with  the  Earl  of  Argyll, 
a  fugitive  now  on  the  friendly  shores  of  .Holland.  And  in 
London  they  had  the  advice  of  William  Carstares,  and  Fletcher 
of  Saltoun,  and  Baillie  of  Jerviswood.  Carstares,  a  born 
diplomatist,  had  his  shining  virtues,  but  sometimes  he  reached 
his  goal  by  circuitous  paths;  he  was  afterwards  to  be  King 
William's  astute  coadjutor  in  everything  relating  to  the 
northern  parts  of  the  realm.  Baillie's  was  a  simpler  and 
higher  nature,  and  he  would  have  welcomed  the  frankest  and 
manfullest  opposition  to  the  royal  encroachments.  When 
Carstares,  finding  that  the  English  were  somewhat  languid  in 
carrying  out  the  common  purpose,  insisted  that  the  Scots 
should  stay  their  preparations  and  walk  with  wariness, 
Robert  Baillie  stoutly  maintained  the  contrary  opinion.  That 
their  allies  were  laggards  was  no  reason,  he  argued,  why  the 
Scots  should  not  immediately  unfurl  the  standard  of  the 
people's  rights.  It  might  be  more  arduous  and  more  hazardous 
to  risk  the  undertaking  alone,  but  it  was  also  more  glorious. 
If  they  should  succeed,  as  he  believed  they  could  succeed,  it 
woiild  not  be  the  first  time,  since  the  Stuarts  inherited  the 
sceptre  of  Henry  the  Eighth  and  Elizabeth,  that  Englishmen 
owed  to  Scotland  theii'  enfranchisement  from  tyranny.  But 
politic  Carstares — Cardinal  Carstares,  as  he  was  dubbed  in 
subsequent  days — prevailed  with  his  counsels  of  moderation ; 
and,  before  an  aggressive  step  was  taken,  the  secret  was  out 
and  the  retribution  fell. 

Now,  side  by  side  with  this  great  conspiracy,  in  which 
some  of  the  finest  spirits  in  the  two  countries  were  engaged, 
and  which  desired  nothing  but  a  beneficent  change  of  govern- 
ment, there  was  being  matured  an  unworthier  plot  whose 
intention  was  the  assassination  of  the  King  and  the  Duke  of 
York.  The  confederates  who  hatched  the  bloodthirsty  project 
nicknamed  the  royal  brothers  "  Slavery  "  and  "  Popery  "  ;   or 


296  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

sometimes     they    gave    them     sobriquets     borrowed     from 
their  personal   appearance :    Charles,  a  dusky   monarch,  was 
the  "  Blackbird,"  while  the  Duke,  who  w^as   blonde,  was  the 
"  Goldfinch,"     Many  were  the  debates  as  to  where  and  when 
they  should  be  killed.     With  one  or  two  the  proposal  was  to 
shoot  at  them  from  Bow  Steeple ;   others  would  have  them 
attacked  in  St.  James's  Park  or  in  their  barge  on  the  river.     The 
road  between  Hampton  Court  and  Windsor,  and  that  between 
London  and  Winchester,  highways  in  which  King  and  Duke 
were  often  seen,  were  suggested  too.     At  last  Kumbold,  who 
had  been  a  fearless  officer  among  the  Ironsides,  but  who  was 
irreconcilably  Eepublican  in  his  political  creed,  invited  the 
conspirators  to  meet  at  his  house,  the  Eye,  about   eighteen 
miles  from  London,  in  Hertfordshire.     Near  it  ran  a  narrow 
lane  which  Charles  was  in  the  habit  of  using  as  he  travelled 
to  and   from   Newmarket.     On    one   side   of   the   lane   grew 
a  thick  hedge,  on  the  other  was   an  outhouse  with  several 
windows ;  men  bent  on  desperate  deeds  could  not  have  wished 
a  spot  more  suitable  for  the  execution  of  their  plan.     The 
mansion  itself  stood  hard  by ;  it  was  surrounded  by  a  moat, 
and  could  easily  be  defended  by  a  few  determined  fighters.    The 
offer  of  the  advantageous  place  was  instantly  accepted,  and 
therefore  we  speak  of  the  Ryehouse  Plot.     But  the  plot  came 
to  nothing,  for  the  King  left   Newmarket  on  an  earlier  day 
than  was  expected,  and  there  were  no  antagonists  to  intercept 
him  as  he  drove  rapidly  home  to  Whitehall.     And  then  one  of 
the  band,  after  "  much  conflict  with  himself,"  uneasy  in  mind 
about  so  ugly  a  business,  resolved  to  "  discharge  his  conscience 
of  the  hellish  secret."     The  disclosure  had  momentous   con- 
sequences.    Some  of  the  Eyehouse  men  were   aware   of   the 
existence  of  the  other  scheme.     They  had  striven  to  secure 
the  help  of  the  Whig  gentlemen  in  their  own  wilder  enterprise ; 
but   they  had   been  indignantly  repelled.     Now,  when   they 
were   examined   by  the  lawyers  of  the  King,  they  revealed 
what  they  knew  of  the  doings  of  Monmouth  and  Eussell  and 
Sidney  and  Baillie. 

We  need  not  linger  over  the  issues,  so  far  as  these  concerned 
England.     Few  pages  in  British  history  are  more  touching  and 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.   BAILLIE     297 

splendid  than  those  which  narrate  how  Lord  William  Russell 
underwent  his  trial ;  how  he  parted  with  his  children  and  his 
wife,  his  eyes  following  her  as  she  left  his  cell,  and  then  turned 
to  Gilbert  Burnet  and  said,  "  The  bitterness  of  death  is  past " ; 
how  calmly  he  moved  through  the  crowded  streets  to  the 
scaffold,  and  prayed  his  last  prayer,  and  died.  And  Algernon 
Sidney  ranks  among  the  most  heroic  in  "  our  rough  island 
story."  "  In  his  imprisonment  he  sent  for  some  Independent 
preachers,  and  expressed  to  them  a  deep  remorse  for  his  past 
sins  and  great  confidence  in  the  mercies  of  God.  And  indeed 
he  met  death  with  an  unconcernedness  that  became  one  who 
had  set  up  Marcus  Brutus  for  his  pattern.  He  was  but  a  very 
few  minutes  on  the  scaffold  at  Tower  Hill ;  he  spoke  little,  and 
prayed  very  short,  and  his  head  was  cut  off  at  one  blow," 

It  is  round  the  Scottish  victim,  Eobert  Baillie  of  Jerviswood, 
that  our  interest  gathers. 

James  Stirling  of  Paisley,  Wodrow's  friend,  will  introduce 
us  to  him.  "  He  was  a  man  of  great  natural  parts,  and  learned, 
and  well-travelled,  and  very  pious  from  his  very  youth.  He 
said,  as  I  heard,  that  God  had  begun  to  work  upon  him  when 
he  was  about  ten  years  of  age — that  Christ  crucified  had  been 
his  daily  study  and  constant  delight.  He  was  a  man  that  had 
a  sort  of  majesty  in  his  face  and  stateliness  in  his  carriage." 
There  are  other  witnesses  who  confirm  James  Stirling.  Burnet 
photographs  the  Laird  of  Jerviswood  in  one  happy  line :  "  A 
gentleman  of  great  parts,  but  of  much  greater  virtue."  And 
John  Owen,  the  massive  Puritan,  is  unstinted  in  his  admira- 
tion. "  You  have  truly  men  of  great  spirits  in  Scotland,"  he 
said  once ;  "  there  is  for  a  gentleman  Mr.  Baillie,  a  person  of 
the  greatest  abilities  I  almost  ever  met  with."  We  are  to 
think  of  a  country  proj)rietor  of  the  best  type,  with  estates  in 
Lanark  and  Berwickshire.  He  is  a  great-grandson  of  John 
Knox.  He  has  married  one  of  the  daughters  of  Archibald 
Johnston,  Lord  Wariston.  He  is  a  just  and  kindly  landlord. 
He  is  a  man,  moreover,  who  thoroughly  deserves  Dr.  Owen's 
tribute — a  man  of  vigorous  intellect,  who  can  read  various 
languages,  who  has  a  liking  for  mathematics,  and  who  dabbles 
in  scientific  speculation  and  experiment.     Better  still,  he  is  a 


298  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

little  child  in  the  household  of  faith,  walking  in  humility  and 
in  friendship  with  his  God.  Let  us  hear  Mr.  Stirling  again : 
"  He  owned  himself  a  true  Presbyterian,  and  a  son  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland  in  her  purest  and  best  times.  He  was  a 
great  lover  of  public  ordinances  and  Communion  occasions ;  he 
was  frequently  present  at  several  Communions  in  Cam'nethan, 
and  he  went  to  the  Table  there  with  a  great  measure  of  serious- 
ness and  devotion,  greatly  trembling,  and  yet  sweetly  coming 
forward  with  a  holy  boldness."  Eobert  Baillie  was  wealthy, 
and  scholarly,  and  saintly  ;  and  it  is  not  often  that  we  can  apply 
the  three  adjectives  to  one  man. 

And  what  a  good  citizen  he  was !  He  had  thought  much 
about  the  problems  of  the  State.  His  opinions  were  carefully 
weighed  and  wise.  If  King  Charles  had  imderstood  his  own 
opportunity,  he  would  have  summoned  him  to  the  Council- 
board  instead  of  hurrying  him  to  the  public  executioner.  "  As 
for  my  principles  with  relation  to  Government,"  he  wrote, 
"  they  are  such  as  I  ought  not  to  be  ashamed  of,  being  con- 
sonant to  the  Word  of  God,  the  Confessions  of  Faith  of  the 
Reformed  Churches,  the  rules  of  policy,  reason,  and  humanity." 
He  was,  in  fact,  a  gifted  and  devout  champion  of  freedom 
hi  every  department  of  the  nation's  life.  Only  the  direst 
necessity  drove  such  a  man  into  the  comradeship  of  con- 
spirators ;  loyalty  was  his  native  soil  and  air,  but  then  it  was 
loyalty  to  the  righteousness  and  the  clemency  and  the  state- 
liness  of  soul  which  invest  the  ruler  with  his  true  sovereignty. 
He  had  been  associated  with  those  nobles  and  burgesses  wlio, 
in  these  dreary  months  at  home,  were  promoting  a  scheme  of 
emigration  from  Britain  to  South  Carolina ;  but  it  cut  him  to 
the  quick  that  in  the  land  he  loved  religion  and  justice  should 
be  standing  "  on  tiptoe,  ready  to  pass  to  the  American  strand." 
We  have  seen  him  taking  his  share  in  the  negotiations  by 
which  honest  and  courageous  statesmen  hoped  to  inaugurate  a 
change — such  a  change  as  should  harmonise  the  liberties  of 
the  subject  with  the  prerogatives  of  the  Crown ;  but  he  was  no 
extremist  and  leveller.  If  his  inquisitors  in  Edinburgh  tried 
to  link  him  with  the  Kyehouse  Plot,  they  did  not  succeed; 
he   wished   an   end   of   tyranny,  but   he  held  tyrannicide   in 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.  BAILLIE     299 

abhorrence.  It  is  certain  that  his  affection  for  Church  and 
Covenant  had  an  emphasis  about  it  which  was  missing  from 
that  of  Argyll  and  Fletcher  and  Carstares ;  but  it  is  as  certain 
that  he  outstripped  them  in  the  intelligence  and  steadfastness 
of  his  attachment  to  the  institutions  of  the  State.  Eobert 
Baillie's  chivalrous  patriotism  should  have  been  beyond 
suspicion. 

He  was  captured  in  London,  in  the  summer  of  1683.  For 
some  months  he  lay  in  prison  there,  so  heavily  loaded  with 
irons  that  his  health  broke  down.  On  different  occasions  he 
was  examined  by  the  King's  Judges,  and,  once  at  least,  by  the 
King  himself.  But  they  could  not  extort  from  him  the  in- 
formation which  they  were  eager  to  gain.  They  determined 
that,  in  company  with  the  other  Scottish  prisoners,  he  should 
be  sent  to  Edinburgh,  where  the  laws  were  more  arbitrary, 
and  where  torture  could  be  applied  to  compel  confession.  On 
the  1st  of  November  the  royal  yacht,  the  Kiichin,  sailed  from 
London.  It  was  a  protracted  and  stormy  voyage  of  a  fort- 
night's duration.  On  the  14th  Baillie,  with  William  Carstares 
and  the  Campbells  of  Cessnock  and  Mure  of  Eowallan  and 
the  rest  of  the  accused  men,  was  carried  from  Leith  up  to 
Edinburgh,  and  was  lodged  in  the  Tolbooth. 

He  was  in  the  lowest  state  of  weakness  now.  His  wife, 
the  child  of  one  good  soldier  of  Christ  and  the  helpmate  of 
another,  begged  that  she  might  be  admitted  to  his  dungeon, 
and  declared  her  readiness  to  be  laid  in  irons  at  his  side,  if  the 
Council  feared  that  she  meant  to  aid  him  to  escape ;  but  her 
petition  was  roughly  rejected.  His  little  daughter,  who  longed 
to  comfort  him  in  his  sore  sickness,  was  denied  access  to  her 
father.  At  length,  when  his  bodily  frailties  had  increased  so 
alarmingly  that  death  seemed  close  at  hand,  Mrs.  Baillie  and 
his  sister-in-law,  Lady  Graden  received  a  grudging  permission 
to  attend  upon  him.  For  his  enemies  were  by  no  means 
desirous  that  he  should  slip  from  them  so  quietly  and  so  soon. 
That  would  both  disappoint  them  of  their  revenge  and  rob 
them  of  the  legal  power  to  forfeit  the  prisoner's  estates.  That 
they  might  make  sure  of  profiting  to  some  extent,  they 
imposed  on  him  a  great  fine  of  £6000  for  liarbouring  the  out- 


300  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

lawed  preachers;  the  common  feelings  of  humanity  had 
deserted  judges  whose  tender  mercies  were  so  cruel.  "  Yet," 
we  learn  from  one  who  knew  him,  "  he  was  so  composed,  and 
even  so  cheerful,  that  his  behaviour  looked  like  the  reviving  of 
the  spirit  of  the '  noblest  of  the  old  Greeks  or  Eomans,  or 
rather  of  the  primitive  Christians  and  first  martyrs  in  those 
best  days  of  the  Church." 

Meanwhile,  in  the  September  of  1684 — for  the  Edinburgh 
imprisonment  lasted  through  a  long  time — the  authorities  had 
been  torturing  Carstares.  The  King's  smith  accompanied  His 
Majesty's  Privy  Councillors,  bringing  with  him  a  new  pair  of 
thumbkins,  which  were  warranted  to  do  their  gruesome  work 
in  the  deadliest  fashion.  The  prisoner's  thumbs  were  inserted, 
and  screwed  down,  until  the  sweat  of  his  anguish  streamed 
over  forehead  and  cheeks.  The  Dukes  of  Hamilton  and 
Queensberry  rose  after  a  few  minutes,  and  left  the  room, 
finding  the  horrible  scene  too  much  for  their  nerves  to  bear. 
But  Lord  Perth,  who  presided,  ordered  the  executioner  to  give 
the  instrument  another  turn ;  and  General  Dalzell  in  a  rage 
came  up  to  Carstares,  and  vowed  that  he  would  roast  him 
alive  if  he  did  not  divulge  whatever  he  knew.  It  was  in  vain. 
The  sutferer  continued  firm,  although  the  cruelty  was  pro- 
longed for  "  near  an  hour  and  a  half."  Some  days  later,  how- 
ever, when  he  was  threatened  with  a  repetition  of  the  frightful 
experience,  or  with  the  still  worse  agonies  of  the  Boot,  he 
promised  to  answer  the  questions  which  might  be  put  to  him, 
first  making  the  stipulation  that  nothing  he  said  should  be 
brought,  directly  or  indirectly,  against  any  man  who  was  on 
trial.  The  condition  was  acquiesced  in ;  he  was  told  tliat  his 
replies  would  be  matters  of  confidence.  In  these  replies 
Robert  Baillie's  name  was  mentioned  more  than  once.  It  was 
what  the  Privy  Council  had  been  seeking  for ;  and,  when  they 
had  the  information,  they  did  not  scruple  to  break  their 
engagement  with  Carstares.  They  determined  to  use  every 
syllable  which  they  had  drawn  from  his  unwilling  lips. 

Late  in  December,  when  his  life  was  hanging  by  a  thread, 
and  he  was  so  feeble  that  he  was  brought  to  the  bar  wrapt  in 
his  nightgown,  Baillie  confronted  his  judges.     Because  of  her 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.  BAILLIE     301 

ill-health,  his  wife  was  absent ;  but  Lady  Graden  sat  by  his 
side,  and  supported  him,  and  had  often  to  give  him  cordials 
to  prevent  him  from  fainting  away.  Sir  George  Mackenzie 
recited  his  crimes.  He  dwelt  on  the  relationships  of  the 
accused  man :  "  Remember  you  that  he  is  nephew  and  son-in- 
law  to  the  late  Wariston,  bred  up  in  his  family  and  under  his 
tutory."  He  was  at  pains  to  identify  the  Ryehouse  Plot  with 
the  larger  designs  of  Lord  William  Russell  and  the  Earl  of 
Argyll,  and  he  charged  the  prisoner  with  having  a  pre-eminent 
part  in  tlie  less  defensible  scheme.  Then  he  described  how 
Carstares,  a  "chief  conspirator,"  had  incriminated  Robert 
Baillie.  With  the  deft  and  unlovely  cleverness  of  a 
Machiavelli,  he  connected  the  Presbyterian  minister's  unwill- 
ingness to  give  his  evidence  with  his  knowledge  that  the 
information  was  to  be  employed  against  his  comrade ;  and  he 
deduced  Baillie's  guilt  from  that  "scrupulosity"  which  the 
Privy  Council  had  at  last  discovered  how  to  overcome.  "  Mr. 
Carstares  knew,"  he  said,  "  when  he  was  to  depone,  that  his 
deposition  was  to  be  used  against  Jerviswood;  and  he  stood 
more  in  awe  of  his  love  to  his  friend  than  of  the  fear  of  the 
torture,  and  hazarded  rather  to  die  for  Jerviswood  than  that 
Jerviswood  should  die  by  him.  How  can  it  then  be  imagined 
that  this  kindness,  which  we  all  admired  in  him,  would  have 
suffered  him  to  forget  anything  which  might  have  been 
advantageous  in  the  least  to  his  friend  ?  They  understand  ill 
this  height  of  friendship,  who  think  that  it  would  not  have 
been  more  nice  and  careful  than  any  advocate  could  have 
been."  It  is  disingenuous  reasoning;  and,  when  one  wants 
to  study  the  sacred  subject  of  friendship,  one  turns  to  other 
teachers  than  Sir  George  Mackenzie. 

But  Robert  Baillie  listened  undismayed.  When  the 
advocate  finished,  he  had  his  opportunity.  In  his  physical 
frailty  he  was  compelled  to  lean  on  the  bar  in  front  of  him ; 
but  there  was  no  lessening  of  his  spiritual  nerve  and  force. 
He  addressed  the  President  of  the  Court.  "My  lord,"  he 
said,  "the  sickness  now  upon  me,  in  all  human  appearance, 
will  soon  prove  mortal,  and  I  cannot  live  many  days.  I  find  I 
am  intended  for  a  public  sacrifice  in  my  life  and  estate ;  and 


302  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

my  doom  being  predetermined,  I  am  only  sorry,  under  such 
circumstances,  that  my  trial  has  given  the  Court  so  much  and 
so  long  trouble."  Then,  turning  to  the  jury,  he  went  on :  "  As 
to  the  witnesses  who  have  appeared  against  me,  I  do  most 
heartily  forgive  them :  but " — and  now  there  were  fire  and 
energy  in  his  words — "  there  is  one  thing  where  I  am  injured 
to  the  last  degree,  that  is,  to  be  charged  with  a  plot  to  cut  off 
the  King  and  the  Duke  of  York.  I  am  in  all  probability  to 
appear  in  a  few  hours  before  the  tribunal  of  the  Great  Judge. 
In  His  omniscient  presence,  I  solemnly  declare  that  never  was 
I  prompted  or  privy  to  any  such  thing,  and  that  I  abhor  and 
detest  all  thoughts  and  principles  that  would  lead  to  touching 
the  life  and  blood  of  His  Majesty,  or  of  his  royal  brother,  or  of 
any  person  whatever.  I  was  ever  for  monarchical  government, 
and  I  designed  nothing  in  all  my  public  appearances,  which 
have  been  few,  but  the  preservation  of  the  Protestant  religion, 
the  safety  of  His  Majesty's  person,  the  redressing  of  our 
grievances  by  King  and  Parliament,  the  relieving  of  the 
oppressed,  and  putting  a  stop  to  the  shedding  of  blood."  The 
freedom,  for  which  so  true  and  wise  a  reformer  hungered, 
must  broaden  slowly  down. 

A  dramatic  incident  followed.  With  a  sudden  movement, 
he  forsook  the  President  and  the  jury,  and  fixed  his  eyes 
straight  and  full  on  Sir  George  Mackenzie.  "  My  Lord 
Advocate,"  the  brave  voice  rang,  as  if  before  death  its  strength 
were  being  renewed,  "  I  think  it  strange  that  you  accuse  me 
of  such  abominable  things.  When  you  came  to  me  in  the 
prison,  you  told  me  that  such  things  were  laid  to  my  charge, 
but  that  you  did  not  believe  them.  Are  you  convinced  in 
your  conscience  that  I  am  more  guilty  now  than  I  was  at 
the  interview  where  you  acquitted  me  of  guilt  ?  Do  you 
remember  what  passed  betwixt  us  in  the  prison  ?  "  At  once 
the  gaze  of  the  court  was  fixed  on  Mackenzie.  He  rose, 
annoyed  and  embarrassed.  "  Jerviswood,"  he  replied,  "  I 
own  what  you  say.  My  thoughts  were  then  as  a  private 
man  ;  but  what  I  say  here  is  by  special  direction  of  the  Privy 
Council.  He  " — pointing  to  Sir  William  Paterson,  the  Clerk 
of   the  Justices — "he   knows  my  orders."     "Well,  my  lord," 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.   BAILLIE     303 

came  the  stinging  and  unanswerable  response,  "  if  your  lord- 
ship has  one  conscience  for  yourself  and  another  for  the 
Council,  I  pray  God  to  forgive  you:  I  do.  My  lords,  I 
trouble  your  lordships  no  further." 

The  trial  lasted  until  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the 
24th  of  December.  The  same  day,  six  hours  later,  the  jury 
found  him  guilty.  It  was  plain  that  he  was  sick  unto  death, 
and,  says  Lauder  of  Fountainhall,  who  had  been  Mackenzie's 
junior  at  the  memorable  assize,  "  the  holy  days  of  Yule  were 
approaching " ;  so  the  Government,  "  at  once  bloodthirsty 
and  pious,"  must  not  delay  the  sacrifice.  The  Doomster 
declared  the  verdict.  That  very  afternoon,  between  two  and 
four  of  the  clock,  the  convicted  man  must  die.  His  head 
was  to  be  placed  on  the  Netherbow;  his  limbs  were  to  be 
scattered  tliroughout  Scotland ;  his  possessions  were  forfeit ; 
his  blood  was  tainted.  Another  degradation  was  added.  The 
King's  heralds  came  forward,  and,  having  sounded  their 
trumpets,  they  tore  asunder  the  Jerviswood  coat  of  arms, 
and  trampled  it  under  their  feet,  and  proclaimed  the  martyr's 
family  humiliated  and  abased.  It  was  malediction  heaped 
on  malediction,  one  ban  treading  fast  and  hard  on  the  heels 
of  a  preceding  ban.  When  he  had  heard  it  all,  he  drew 
himself  up.  "My  lords,"  he  said,  in  words  which  never 
were  forgotten,  "  the  time  is  short ;  the  sentence  is  sharp ;  but 
I  thank  my  God  who  hath  made  me  as  fit  to  die  as  ye  are 
to  live."  He  was  the  conqueror  in  the  evil  and  yet  glorious 
scene. 

With  Lady  Graden's  arm  to  sustain  him,  he  left  the  court 
for  his  prison.  As  they  passed  Lord  Wariston's  house,  he 
looked  up  to  a  well-known  window,  and,  smiling,  said  to 
Helen  Johnston,  "  Many  a  sweet  day  and  night  with  God 
had  your  now  glorified  father  in  that  chamber."  He  was  him- 
self a  Christian  whose  unceasing  joy  had  been  to  maintain 
communion  with  the  heavenly  place.  We  have  learned  how 
solitary  his  confinement  was,  and  how  his  tormentors  were 
reluctant  to  allow  him  the  solace  of  intercourse  with  a  single 

O 

human  friend.  But  in  the  cell  next  to  his  own  lay  some 
others  bound,  as  he  was,  with  a  chain  for  the  Hope  of  Israel ; 


304  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

and  "  when  they  went  together  about  worship,  he  brought 
his  chair  hard  to  their  door,  and  laboured  thus  to  join  with 
them  as  far  as  he  could."  Now,  for  a  brief  hour  or  two,  he 
was  back  in  the  Tolbooth  for  the  last  time.  So  soon  as  he 
entered  the  dungeon,  we  are  told,  he  threw  himself  on  his 
bed,  and  broke  into  a  prayer  which  "soared  like  incense  to 
the  skies."  He  was  in  a  rapture  ;  there  was  a  shining  light 
about  his  looks;  the  tears  of  gladness  refused  to  be  held  in 
check.  He  spoke  like  one  who  was  already  in  his  Father's 
house.  Kising  from  his  knees,  he  assured  those  beside  him 
that,  long  ago,  God  had  begun  the  good  work  in  him,  that 
He  had  carried  it  steadfastly  on,  and  that  now  He  was  putting 
the  copestone  upon  it.  "  Within  a  few  hours,"  he  said,  "  I 
shall  be  beyond  conception  inexpressibly  well."  By  and  by, 
when  the  moment  had  come  for  departure,  he  kissed  his  wife, 
his  son  George,  a  lad  of  nineteen,  who  was  to  be  a  states- 
man in  King  William's  time,  and  the  little  daughter — 
kissed  them,  and  blessed  them,  and  pleaded  earnestly  that 
God  might  be  with  them.  "  And,"  he  added,  "  within  a 
little  we  shall  have  a  cheerful  and  blithe  meeting."  "  So 
pleasantly,"  good  James  Stirling  writes,  "  he  parted  with 
them  all." 

Lady  Graden,  strengthened  inwardly  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  went  with  him  to  the  scaffold.  She  had  to  help  him 
up  the  ladder,  his  body  was  so  worn.  When  he  had  reached 
the  topmost  step,  he  cast  his  glance  over  the  crowd.  "  My 
faint  zeal  for  the  Protestant  religion,"  he  said,  "  has  brought 
me  to  this  end."  But  it  was  not  the  wish  of  his  adversaries 
that  he  should  address  a  multitude  in  which  he  had  many 
sympathisers,  and  immediately  the  drums  began  to  beat. 
There  was  no  reason,  he  continued,  why  the  rulers  should 
trouble  themselves;  for  he  had  not  intended  to  speak  any 
more.  Then  he  gave  himself  anew  to  prayer,  and,  as  he 
prayed,  the  executioner  did  his  work  ;  and  Robert  Bailhe  had 
fought  his  last  fight  and  his  best. 

The  Whig  movement  for  reform,  like  the  Cameronian 
movement,  was  baptised  in  blood.  But  the  baptism  of  blood 
very  often  is  the  preface  of  deliverance  and  the  avenue  to 


KOBEET   BAILLIE   OF  JERVISWOOD. 

In  fm  youth.    After  a  Miniature  of  16C0. 


FOR  A  GENTLEMAN  THERE  IS  MR.  BAILLIE     305 

victory.  A  Hebrew  psalm  declares  that  through  fire  and 
water  men  are  conducted  to  the  wealthy  place ;  and  the 
doctrine  of  the  psalm  has  been  illustrated  in  many  another 
epoch  than  the  Old  Testament  era,  and  in  many  another 
land  than  Palestine. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

LE  ROI  EST  MORT. 

CLOUD  and  grief  had  encompassed  the  Scottish  Church 
for  wearisome  years.  Yet,  now  and  then,  there  were 
alleviations  of  the  gloom — faint  streaks  of  promise  and  hope 
in  the  heavy  sky.  Eight  days  after  the  sorrow  of  Bothwell 
Bridge,  through  the  exertions  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  whose 
heart  was  not  so  wholly  unfamiliar  with  melting  charity  as 
were  those  of  most  of  his  contemporaries,  the  Third  Indulgence 
had  been  published.  While  it  still  pronounced  traitors  the 
ministers  who  took  any  part  in  the  field  meetings,  it  permitted 
house  conventicles,  save  in  the  towns  of  Edinburgh  and  St. 
Andrews  and  Glasgow  and  Stirling.  It  granted  liberty,  too, 
to  some  of  the  imprisoned  preachers.  Was  there  in  it,  men 
asked  themselves,  the  faltering  prophecy,  which  might  become 
more  articulate  soon,  of  a  brighter  time  ?  But  the  feeble 
flicker  of  apparent  dawn  was  very  quickly  obscured  and 
quenched.  Monmouth's  influence  with  the  King  diminished 
within  a  few  months,  the  Duke  of  York  ousting  him  from  his 
position  of  favour.  The  breathing-space  was  over,  Wodrow 
says,  before  numbers  of  the  Presbyterians  knew  of  it  at  all. 
The  Third  Indulgence  had  disappeared,  and  the  measures  of 
repression  were  again  enforced  with  unpitying  rigour. 

But  occasionally  a  glint  of  sunshine  came  from  an  unex- 
pected quarter.  One  of  the  friends  of  the  Laird  of  Jerviswood 
was  Sir  Hugh  Campbell  of  Cessnock.  In  the  spring  of  1684 
he  was  on  his  trial  in  Edinburgh  for  high  treason.  It  looked 
as  if  little  fault  could  have  been  found  with  his  behaviour ;  he 
was  not  one  of   the   root-and-branch  men ;   Jerviswood  was 

prepared  to  fight  a  much   more   unyielding   battle  than   he. 

306 


LE  ROI  EST  MORT 


307 


Before  the  Court  he  pleaded  that  he  had  allowed  no  conventicles 

to  be   held   on  his   ground,    that   neither  he   himself  nor  his 

children  and  servants  had  been  present  at  any,  and  that  he 

worshipped   regularly  within    the    walls   of   his   own   parish 

church.      But    it     was     well    enough    understood    that    his 

sympathies   were   with    the    friends    of   civil    and    religious 

freedom;  and,  moreover,   his   estates   were-  coveted   by  some 

who  stood  in  lofty  place.     So,  while  Baillie  was  lying  in  his 

dungeon  in  the  Tolbooth,  Sir  Hugh  Campbell,  "  of  very  ancient 

and  honourable  family,"  was  arraigned  before  the  Judges  on  a 

capital  charge,  and  the  signs  were  that  he  would  share  his 

comrade's   death.     Sir    George    Mackenzie   and    Sir    George 

Lockhart,  the  leaders  of  the  bar,  conducted  the  prosecution  ; 

and  the  majority  of  the  lords  on  the  bench  were  hostile  to  the 

prisoner.     The  indictment  was  that,  when  two  of  his  retainers 

had  left  Sir  Kobert  Hamilton's  army  and  returned  to  their 

master,  he  had  sent  them  back  to  carry  on  the  quarrel  of  the 

Covenant,  and  had  assured   them  that  they  should  not  lack 

assistance  from  himself.     But  the  one  witness  who  told  this 

story,  Thomas   Ingram   of   Borlands,  was  a  perjurer,  a   man 

with  a  personal  grudge  against  Campbell.     When  he  was  put 

upon  "  the  great  oath,"  and  when  the  prisoner,  looking  him 

full  in  the  face,  bade  him  beware  of  making  eternal  shipwreck 

of   his   soul,   his    courage    failed.     "  Being    interrogate   upon 

the  rest  of  the  libel " — that  incriminating  speech  which  he  had 

ascribed  to  Cessnock — he  "  deponed  he  knew  nothing  of  it ;  and 

this  was  the  truth,  as  he  should  answer."     Immediately  there 

arose  a  great  shout  of  joy  in  the  crowded  court,  and  hands  were 

clapped ;   and   the  King's  Advocate,  Bloody   Mackenzie,  was 

beside  himself  with  fury :  he  believed,  he  said,  that  Campbell 

had  hired  his  friends  to  make  the  unseemly  acclamation,  and 

never,    except   in    the   trial   of   Shaftesbury,    had   he   heard 

"  such  a  Protestant  roar."     The  most  disgraceful  feature  of 

the  proceedings  was  yet  to  be  disclosed.     The  Lord  Justice 

General,  the  Earl  of  Perth,  set  himself  from  his  place  on  the 

bench  to  bully   Ingram  into  supplying   the  evidence  which 

might  condemn  the  prisoner.     He  took  the  task  of  prosecution 

out  of  tlie  hands  of  the  advocates.     But  Sir  Hugh  discovered 


3o8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

allies  on  whose  succour  he  scarcely  had  reckoned.  The  jury 
was  composed  of  men  with  beliefs  which  were  not  those  of  the 
Covenanters  ;  but  they  were  men  who  kept  in  their  hearts  the 
love  of  righteous  deaUng.  First  one  of  them,  and  then  another, 
and  afterwards  the  whole  of  their  company,  rose  and  bravely 
protested  against  the  unjustifiable  conduct  of  the  President  of 
the  Court.  Lord  Perth  scolded  and  stormed.  "  It  is  not  I  whom 
you  contemn,"  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  His  Majesty's  authority." 
His  passion  had  no  result.  The  verdict  was  one  of  Not 
Guilty ;  and  the  Laird  of  Cessnock  owed  his  life  to  political 
and  ecclesiastical  antagonists,  who  refused  to  be  browbeaten 
out  of  fair-mindedness  and  chivalry.  No  doubt,  his  bitterer 
enemies  contrived  an  excuse  for  holding  him  still  in  durance 
and  for  confiscating  his  property.  But  more  than  that  they 
dared  not  do. 

An  encouragement  of  a  different  sort,  to  be  dated  in  the  July 
or  the  August  of  1684,  was  the  rescue  at  the  Enterkin,  the  famous 
pass  between  Lanarkshire  and  Dumfries,  of  which  Dr.  John 
Brown  has  written  :  "  We  know  nothing  more  noticeable,  more 
unlike  any  other  place,  more  impressive,  than  this  short,  deep, 
narrow,  and  sudden  glen."  Wodrow  has  one  version  of  the 
rescue,  Defoe  another,  which  varies  somewhat,  and  which,  as 
we  should  expect  from  the  creator  of  Eobinson  Crusoe,  is 
told  in  language  at  once  more  homely  and  more  picturesque. 
According  to  this  narrative,  some  of  Claverhouse's  dragoons 
had  entered  the  gorge,  dragging  with  them  as  prisoners  a 
Covenanting  minister  and  five  blue-bonneted  countrymen. 
They  were  slowly  climbing  the  hill,  when  they  heard  a  voice 
call  to  them  from  the  heights  on  their  left.  Then,  through 
the  mist,  twelve  men  came  into  view  who,  from  a  certain 
distance,  demanded  the  release  of  the  minister.  The  officer  in 
command  refused  with  an  oath,  but  instantly  he  was  shot 
through  the  head ;  and,  ever  since,  the  wild  cascade  half-way 
down  the  ravine  has  borne  liis  name,  and  been  called  Kelte's 
Linn.  From  the  side  of  the  dragoons,  now  conquered  by  panic, 
which  was  all  the  more  complete  and  paralysing  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  second  body  of  armed  men  stationed  on  the  hill  in 
front,  a  truce  was  asked.     The  prisoners  were  at  once  liberated 


LE  ROI  EST  MORT  309 

— all  of  them,  avers  Defoe ;  all  except  John  M'Kechnie,  "  a 
singularly  pious  man  of  Galloway,"  corrects  Wodrow.  "  Go 
Sir,"  said  the  captain  to  the  preacher,  "  You  owe  your  Life  to 
this  Damn'd  Mountain."  "  Eather,  Sir,"  replied  the  minister, 
"  to  that  God  that  made  this  mountain."  "  Well,  but,"  cried 
the  soldier  to  the  leader  of  the  gallant  peasants  who  had  got 
the  better  of  him,  "I  expect  you  call  off  those  Fellows  you 
have  posted  at  the  Head  of  the  Way."  '"  They  belong  not  to  us,' 
says  the  honest  Man,  *  they  are  unarm'd  People,  waiting  till 
you  pass  by.'  '  Say  you  so  ? '  said  the  Oflficer ;  '  Had  I  known 
that,  you  had  not  gotten  your  Men  so  cheap,  or  have  come  off  so 
free.'  Says  the  Countryman, '  An  ye  are  for  Battle,  Sir,  We  are 
ready  for  you  still.  If  you  think  you  are  able  for  us,  ye  may 
trye  your  Hands ;  we'll  quit  the  Truce,  if  you  like.'  '  No,'  says 
the  Officer,  '  I  think  ye  be  brave  Fellows ;  e'en  gang  your 
Gate.'"  Thus,  from  the  Enterkin  and  its  guardian  hills, 
Thirstane  and  Stey  Gail — hills  which,  Defoe  is  compelled  to 
confess,  are  "  as  high  as  the  Monument " — the  Covenanters  bore 
away  rejoicingly  their  precious  booty,  and  the  troopers  rode 
crestfallen  towards  Edinburgh. 

In  1683,  and  through  the  greater  part  of  1684,  until  in  the 
autumn  young  James  Renwick  returned  from  Holland,  the 
voices  of  the  public  preachers  were  stilled  and  hushed.  But 
amongst  the  Cameronians  there  continued  to  be  an  unbroken 
and  thriving  spiritual  life ;  as  he  comprehends  who  reads  that 
interesting  old  book  which  Michael  Shields  penned,  and  which 
carries  on  its  opening  page  the  expressive  title  of  Faithful 
Contendings  Displayed.  It  is  the  story  of  the  Societies — 
the  meetings  of  those  who  owned  the  testimony  of  Cargill 
and  Cameron,  holding  themselves  apart  from  their  fellow- 
Presbyterians  because  they  judged  them  lax  and  latitudinarian 
on  the  subject  of  the  Indulgence  and  the  Indulged,  and  separating 
themselves  as  emphatically  from  all  acknowledgments  of  the 
governance  of  a  persecuting  State.  These  men  and  women,  to 
whom  the  declarations  of  Sanquhar  and  Torwood  were  dear,  sj)alcc 
often  one  with  another.  They  strengthened  each  other's  hands  in 
God.  Over  the  whole  of  the  south  of  Scotland  their  gatherings 
for  prayer  and  mutual  counsel  were  held.     The  gatherings  in 


3IO  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

every  county  were  under  the  supervision  of  a  District  Society  or 
Correspondence.  And,  once  in  three  months,  the  Correspond- 
ences sent  commissioners  to  the  General  Meeting,  to  which 
matters  of  difficulty  were  remitted  for  debate  and  settlement. 
In  1683,  as  Gordon  of  Earlston  informs  us,  there  were  no  fewer 
than  eighty  societies,  with  seven  thousand  men  in  their  member- 
ship, men  who  would  not  bow  the  knee  to  Baal,  and  many  of 
whom  had  wives  and  children  as  steadfast  as  themselves.  And 
so  the  holy  fire  was  kept  blazing  on  the  altar  of  Christ,  even 
when  the  love  of  multitudes  had  waxed  cold. 

With  Michael  Shields  for  our  guide,  we  have  the  oppor- 
tunity of   entering  a  society  meeting.     There  may  be  sixty 
or  seventy   persons  present.     They  have   assembled  probably 
under  cover  of  the  night,  and  there  is  a  friendly  farmhouse 
close  at   hand.     Everything  is  done   in  quietness   and  order. 
A  president  is  chosen ;  and  by  and  by  he  states  the  special 
question  to  be  discussed.     Perhaps  it  is :  Must  we  decline  to 
pay  bridge-dues  and  market-dues  as  well  as  the  cess  and  the 
militia-money  ?     Some   insist   on  the  extremer  position ;   but 
they  are  overruled  by  the  larger  number,  who  are  not  prepared 
to  go  so  far  in  non-compliance.     Or  it  may  be  :  How  shall  we 
help  our  brothers,  who  are  reduced  to  poverty  by  their  refusal 
to  submit  to  the  tyrannous  demands  of  Government  ?     Then 
those  who  have  not  been  fined  and  stripped  to  the  same  sad 
extent  promise  their  aid ;  for  the  society  men  have  learned  to 
bear  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  to  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ. 
Or  it  is :  If  there  should  be  a  Popish  rising,  must  we  refrain 
from  assisting  our  country  in  the  moment  of  its  dire  distress  ? 
And  the  decision  is  a  patriotic  one :  there  must  not  be  any 
intimate  association  with  Koyalists ;  but  the  Cameronians  may 
organise  by  themselves  their  fighting  forces,  and  may  strike 
hard  against  Jesuitry  and  all  its  works ;  ere  many  years  have 
passed,  they  will  actually  be  doing  it  to  good  purpose.     Often, 
in  the  General  Meeting,  the  talk  would  turn  on  the  crying 
need  for  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  who  should  preserve  their 
garments  unspotted  and  their  witness  unshaken  and  full ;  and 
it  was  agreed  that  the  only  method  of  obtaining  these  was  to 
send  some  of  their  own  young  men  to  Holland,  to  be  educated  and 


LE  ROI  EST  MORT  311 

ordained  by  the  exiled  Covenanters  there.  But,  in  the  midst 
of  those  anxious  colloquies  over  the  practical  difficulties  of  the 
time,  the  societies  never  forgot  the  perpetual  claims  of  the 
individual  soul.  Their  meetings  were  homes  of  earnest 
prayer  and  patient  study  of  the  Scriptures;  and  the 
worshippers  who  went  to  them  would  come  away  with  their 
faces  transfigured  and  their  spirits  empowered  with  new  and 
heavenly  strength. 

The  very  children  were  imbued  with  the  dauntlessness  of 
their  elders.  To  this  year  of  1683  belongs  a  Bond  subscribed 
by  fifteen  girls  in  the  village  of  Pentland,  who  had  their  own 
little  gathering  for  purposes  of  devotion.  "  This  is  a  Covenant 
between  the  Lord  and  us,"  it  begins, "  to  give  up  ourselves  freely 
to  Him,  without  reserve,  soul  and  body,  hearts  and  affections, 
to  be  His  children,  and  Him  to  be  our  God  and  Father,  if 
it  please  the  holy  Lord  to  send  His  Gospel  to  the  land  again." 
Soon  they  mount  from  self-dedication  into  entreaty :  "  0  Lord, 
give  us  real  grace  in  our  hearts  to  mind  Zion's  breaches,  that 
is  in  such  a  low  case  this  day ;  and  make  us  to  mourn  with 
her,  for  Thou  hast  said,  them  that  mourn  with  her  in  the  time 
of  her  trouble  shall  rejoice  when  she  rejoiceth."  Each  girl 
sets  down  her  name  to  the  fearless  document :  Beatrix 
Umpherston — she  was  but  ten  summers  old;  Janet  Brown, 
Helen  Moutray,  Marion  Swan,  Janet  Swan,  Isobel  Craig, 
Martha  Logan,  Agnes  Aitken,  Margaret  Galloway,  Helen 
Stratton,  Helen  Clark,  Margaret  Brown,  Janet  Brown, 
Marion  M'Morren,  Christian  Laurie.  If,  as  the  Talmud 
says,  Jerusalem  fell  because  the  training  of  the  children  had 
been  neglected,  the  Scotland  of  the  Covenant  was  manifestly 
doing  her  part  to  escape  so  sore  a  fate. 

These  were  some  of  the  straggling  rays  which  succeeded 
in  penetrating  the  thick  darkness.  But  the  times  were  as 
evil  as  they  could  be.  Nor  were  they  improved  by  the 
startling  event  of  February  1685— the  death  of  King  Charles. 
We  have  now  to  say  our  farewells  to  the  monarch  in 
whose  company  we  have  been  through  all  these  chapters,  a 
monarch  whom  Scotsmen  cannot  love.  The  end  was  in 
harmony   with   everything   which    had    preceded.      It  came 


312  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

suddenly.  On  Sunday  night,  the  first  of  the  month,  he  spoke 
to  Thomas  Bruce,  one  of  the  gentlemen  in  attendance,  about 
his  new  palace  in  Winchester.  "  I  shall  be  so  happy  this 
week,"  he  said,  "as  to  have  my  house  covered  with  lead." 
"  And  God  knows,"  adds  Bruce,  awe-stricken,  "  the  Saturday 
following  he  was  put  into  his  coffin."  On  Monday  morning  he 
was  seized  with  apoplexy,  and  there  never  was  any  hope  of 
recovery  for  one,  whose  frame  was  sapped  by  his  own  vices. 
An  hour  or  two  before  the  last,  the  strange  thing  occurred  which 
seemed  a  fitting  termination  to  a  career  full  of  evasion  and 
deceit.  A  Catholic  priest.  Father  Huddlestone,  was  brought 
into  the  death-cliamber.  Charles  and  he  had  met  formerly 
in  memorable  circumstances,  immediately  after  Worcester. 
"  As  soon  as  the  King  saw  the  father  come  in,  he  cried  out, 
'  You  that  saved  my  body  is  now  come  to  save  my  soul.'  He 
made  a  general  confession,  with  a  most  true,  hearty,  and 
sincere  repentance,  weeping  and  bewailing  his  sins,  and  he 
received  what  is  styled  all  the  rites  of  the  Church ;  and,  just 
at  high  water  and  full  moon  at  noon,  he  expired."  One  wonders 
whether,  anywhere  in  his  dominions,  there  was  a  single 
citizen  who  sincerely  mourned  his  departure.  The  hunted 
folk  north  of  the  Tweed  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  when 
they  heard  that,  at  length,  the  Chief  Malignant  was  gone. 
We  may  be  certain,  too,  that,  with  their  emphatic 
Presbyterian  notions,  they  thought  none  the  better  of  him  for 
his  interview  with  priest  Huddlestone.  As  for  us,  who  read 
the  curious  tale  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  two  hundred 
years — how  gladly  our  hearts  would  believe  in  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  spiritual  change,  whether  the  agent  employed  to 
accomplish  it  were  Jesuit  or  Cameroniau !  But  it  may  be 
feared  that  King  Charles  died  as  he  had  lived,  a  worldling  and 
a  libertine.  It  is  thus,  with  austere  dignity,  that  John  Evelyn, 
whose  temper  is  so  amiable,  writes  of  the  consummate  hour : 
"  I  can  never  forget  the  inexpressible  luxury  and  prophaneness, 
gaming,  and  all  dissoluteness,  and  as  it  were  total  forgetf ullness 
of  God — it  being  Sunday  evening — which  this  day  se'ennight 
I  was  witnesse  of;  the  King  sitting  and  toying  with  his 
concubines,  Portsmouth,  Cleaveland,  and  Mazarine ;  a  French 


LE  ROI  EST  MORT 


313 


boy  singing  love-songs  in  that  glorious  gallery ;  whilst  about 
20  of  the  greate  courtiers  and  other  dissolute  persons  were 
at  basset  round  a  large  table,  a  bank  of  at  least  £2000 
in  gold  before  them :  upon  which  two  gentlemen  who  were 
with  me  made  reflexions  with  astonishment.  Six  days  after, 
all  was  in  the  dust ! "  That  terribly  sharp-edged  word  witli 
which  Boston  of  Ettrick  smites  the  loose  •  livers  of  his  and 
every  time,  not  to  expect  "  the  chance  of  a  leap  out  of 
Delilah's  lap  into  Abraham's  bosom  " :  would  it  not  have  been 
well  if  Charles  Stuart  had  weighed  and  pondered  its  truth 
sooner  than  he  did  ? 

But  his  brother,  who  stepped  into  the  vacant  place,  and 
with  whose  policy  and  methods  the  Covenanters  were  already 
too  fully  acquainted,  was  as  obnoxious  to  all  right-thinking 
men.  James,  the  Seventh  of  Scotland,  the  Second  of  England, 
was  dull  and  narrow  in  understanding,  stubborn  in  temper, 
cruel  and  revengeful  in  disposition.  We  have  seen  how  tlie 
patriots  in  both  countries  had  planned  and  striven  to  exclude 
him,  because  of  his  avowed  Popery,  from  the  supreme  in- 
heritance of  kinghood,  but  how  their  endeavours  had  been 
foiled.  The  political  world  was  quiet  now;  and  the  nation 
listened  to  assurances  from  the  Throne  of  "  the  innate 
clemency  of  His  Majesty,  a  virtue  which  hath  shined  in  the 
whole  line  of  his  royal  race."  But,  in  the  earliest  days  of 
the  Duke  of  York's  reign,  there  were  ominous  symptoms  of 
impending  trouble.  He  declined  to  take  the  Coronation  Oath 
for  Scotland,  because  its  terms  would  have  hampered  him  in 
his  schemes  for  the  re-establishment  of  Koman  Catholicism. 
An  obsequious  Privy  Council  suffered  him  to  have  his  way ; 
but  three  and  a  half  years  later,  when  the  hour  of  reprisal 
arrived,  the  omission  became  a  count  in  the  indictment 
which  deprived  him  of  his  sceptre  and  crown.  Meanwhile, 
however,  he  was  an  untrammelled  autocrat.  He  might  do 
what  he  chose ;  and  he  used  his  power  with  mercilessness  and 
ferocity. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  KILLING  TIME. 

OCCASIONALLY  we  find  the  designation,  The  Killing  Time, 
applied  to  the  twenty-eight  years  of  the  Persecution,  the 
long  winter  of  wind  and  snow  which  lay  between  the  home- 
coming of  King  Charles  and  the  advent  of  King  William. 
But  it  is  a  loose  and  careless  employment  of  the  phrase. 
What  the  men  who  survived  the  tempest  meant,  when  they 
looked  back  and  spoke  of  the  Killing  Time,  was  a  shorter 
period — the  period  between  1684  and  1688.  Then  they  entered 
"the  gloomy  cave  of  Desperation."  Then,  more  than  ever, 
they  were  "  battered  with  the  shocks  of  doom."  And  then, 
too,  Christ,  the  Prince  of  sufferers  and  the  Brother  born  for 
adversity,  came  nearest  those  who  passed  through  innumerable 
trials  for  His  Name's  sake.  "  Not  a  few  of  us  stood  in  this 
faith,"  wrote  Cromwell  to  Speaker  Lenthall  after  the  battle  of 
Dunbar,  "that,  because  of  their  numbers,  because  of  their 
advantage,  because  of  their  confidence,  because  of  our  weak- 
ness, because  of  our  strait,  we  were  in  the  Mount,  and  in  the 
Mount  the  Lord  would  be  seen."  The  remnant  in  the  fields 
and  moors  were  in  the  Mount,  when  their  enemies  gloried  over 
them ;  and  in  the  Mount  they  saw  their  Lord.  They  listened 
to  the  enlivening  accents  of  His  voice,  and  felt,  as  it  were,  the 
grasp  of  His  warm  hands. 

While  all  Covenanters  experienced  the  edge  of  the  gale,  the 
members  of  the  Praying  Societies  were  treated  with  sharpest 
severity.  It  became  evident  that  nothing  short  of  their 
extirpation  was  intended.  Bloodhounds  were  used  to  ferret 
out  their  places  of  hiding.  Spies  and  renegades  were  hired  to 
win  their  confidence  and  to  betray  them.     Soldiers  had  per- 


THE  KILLING  TIME  315 

mission  to  shoot  at  once,  without  any  pretence  of  trial,  sus- 
pected persons  who  should  refuse  to  take  the  Test,  or  to  answer 
bewildering  and  insidious  questions  about  the  murder  of  Arch- 
bishop Sharp  and  about  the  legality  of  the  rising  at  Bothwell 
and  about  the  righteousness  of  bearing  sword  and  gun  against 
the  King.     We  do  not  marvel  that  the  Hillmen  were  driven  to 
exasperation  by  these  atrocities.    They  retaliated.    They  turned 
on  their  oppressors,  as  in  the  last  resort  the  stag  will  turn  on 
the  baying   hounds.     In    October  1684  they  published  their 
Apologetical  Declaration.     It  is  a  document  which  bids  good- 
bye to  meekness  and  gentleness.    "  We  warn  the  enemies  to  our 
cause,  such  as  bloody  militiamen,  malicious  troopers,  soldiers 
and  dragoons  and  spies,  and  their  aiders  and  abetters,  all  who 
either  conspired  with  bloody  Doeg  to  shed  our  blood,  or  witli 
the  flattering  Ziphites  to  inform   persecutors  where  we   are 
to  be  found.     We  warn  you  of  the  hazard  that  ye  incur  by 
following  such  courses ;  for  sinless  necessity  for  self-preserva- 
tion, accompanied  with  holy  zeal  for  Christ's  reigning  in  our 
land  and  suppressing  of  profanity,  will  move  us  not  to  let  you 
pass  unpunished.     All  that  is  in  peril  is  not  lost,  and  all  that 
is  delayed  is  not  forgiven." 

Perhaps  the  vehement  and  volcanic  sentences  ought  not  to 
have  been  penned ;  there  is  more  of  the  Book  of  Judges  in  them 
than  of  St.  Paul's  chapter  on  charity.  Let  us  remember,  in  con- 
donation of  their  sanguinary  tone,  that,  like  Thomas  Lodge's 
Bosalynde,  they  were  "  hatcht  in  the  storms  of  the  Ocean  and 
feathered  in  the  surges  of  many  perillous  seas."  Certainly 
they  brought  fresh  sorrow  on  the  heads  of  their  authors  and  of 
those  who  read  them  with  satisfaction.  The  Lords  of  the  Privy 
Council  decreed  that  anyone  who  owned,  or  who  might  scruple 
about  disowning,  "  the  late  treasonable  "  manifesto,  whether  he 
carried  arms  or  not,  was  immediately  to  be  killed,  care  being 
taken  simply  that  the  slaughter  was  carried  out  in  the  presence 
of  two  witnesses.  Special  courts  were  appointed,  which  met 
in  various  centres  and  simimoned  the  country-people  before 
them,  to  see  that  they  "did  abhor  and  renounce  the  pre- 
tended declaration  of  war  lately  affixed  at  several  Parish 
Churches."    "  All  usual  forms  of  law,"  Sir  Walter  Scott  writes, 


3i6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

and  he  is  no  partisan  of  Kirk  and  Covenant,  "all  forms  by 
which  the  subjects  of  a  country  are  protected  against  the 
violence  of  armed  power,  were  broken  down."  It  was  a  reign 
of  terror.  Lowland  Scotland  lay,  during  the  Killing  Time,  at 
the  mercy  of  the  dragoons,  and  most  of  them  did  not  know  what 
the  quality  of  mercy  is. 

Who  were  some  of  their  leaders  ? 

One  was  Sir  James  Johnstone  of  Westerhall.  Once,  The 
Cloud  of  Witnesses  says,  he  was,  as  others  of  these  hot-foot 
persecutors  had  been,  "  a  great  professor,  and  one  who  had 
sworn  the  Covenant."  Indeed,  his  retractation  was  quite 
recent.  "  When  the  Test  was  framed,  he  bragged  that  he 
scorned  the  Test ;  but,  when  he  had  the  trial,  he  embraced  it, 
and  became  a  bitter  enemy  to  the  work  and  people  of  God." 
There  is  a  peculiarly  lurid  story  with  which  Johnstone's  name 
is  linked  in  infamy.  Andrew  Hislop  was  a  lad  of  seventeen. 
To  the  cottage  home  of  his  widowed  mother  there  crept  one 
day,  conquered  by  mortal  sickness,  a  fugitive  from  the  cold 
hills,  one  of  the  proscribed  Cameronians.  She  gave  him 
shelter ;  and  there,  in  a  short  time,  he  died.  Fearing  punish- 
ment for  their  hospitable  deed,  she  and  the  boys  who  had 
grown  up  at  her  knee  buried  the  body,  under  the  curtain  of 
night,  in  a  neighbouring  field.  But  the  grave  was  discovered 
soon ;  and  the  widow's  house  was  stripped  of  all  its  simple  and 
cherished  belongings,  and  was  pulled  to  the  ground.  While 
she  and  her  sons  were  wandering  from  place  to  place  Claver- 
house  came  upon  Andrew,  and  conveyed  him  as  a  prisoner 
to  Eskdale  to  the  Laird  of  Westerhall.  Johnstone,  there  and 
then,  passed  sentence  of  death.  But  even  Claverhouse  had 
his  compunctions  about  this  murder,  perhaps,  Wodrow  suggests, 
because  conscience  was  speaking  to  him  of  the  wrong  he  had 
done  ten  days  before  to  John  Brown  of  Priesthill.  It  was  not 
until  Westerhall  insisted,  that  he  ordered  three  of  his  dragoons 
to  fire.  The  guns  were  loaded,  and  the  boy  was  told  to  pull  his 
bonnet  over  his  eyes.  But  he  refused,  and  stood  confronting 
his  slayers  with  his  Bible  in  his  hand.  "  I  can  look  you  in  the 
face,"  he  said ;  "  I  have  done  nothing  of  which  I  need  to  be 
ashamed.     But  how  will  you  look  in  that  day  when  you  shall 


THE  KILLING  TIME  317 

be  judged  by  what  is  written  in  this  Book  ?  "  He  fell  dead, 
and  was  buried  among  the  Craighaugh  brackens  and  heather, 
No  doubt,  it  was  the  exodus  which  Andrew  Hislop  craved ;  it 
was  euthanasia  to  him.  His  were  the  prayers  and  avowals 
which  a  modern  poet  has  put  into  the  lips  of  another  boyish 
knight  of  the  Cross — 

O  give  my  youtli,  my  faith,  my  sword, 

Choice  of  the  heart's  desire : 
A  short  life  in  the  saddle,  Lord  ! 

Not  long  life  by  the  fire. 
The  outer  fray  in  the  sun  shall  bo. 

The  inner  beneath  the  moon  ; 
And  may  Our  Captain  lend  to  me 

Sight  of  the  Dragon  soon  ! 

But  Westerhall's  shame  is  perpetual,  and  the  blot  on  his 
character  will  never  be  removed. 

Or  here  is  Lieutenant  Douglas,  brother  of  the  Duke  of 
Queensberry.  In  1685,  in  a  cave  at  Ingliston,  in  the  parish  of 
Glencairn,  he  surprised  a  little  company  of  the  Covenanters. 
His  soldiers,  having  shot  into  the  cave,  rushed  in  through  the 
smoke  of  their  muskets.  They  captured  five  prisoners — John 
Gibson,  Robert  Griersou,  Robert  Mitchell,  James  Bennoch,  and 
John  Edgar.  Without  even  the  most  perfunctory  examination, 
Douglas  ordered  them  to  prepare  for  death.  Gibson  was  led 
out  first.  He  was  allowed  to  pray :  and  so  familiar  and  tender 
and  appealing  his  prayer  was  that,  in  spite  of  themselves, 
the  very  dragoons  were  moved.  He  sang  part  of  the  17th 
Psalm,  and  read  aloud  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  the  Gospel 
of  John.  His  sister  and,  after  her,  his  mother — for  their 
home  was  near  at  hand — were  permitted  to  speak  to  him. 
He  told  them  that  it  was  the  joyfullest  day  ever  he  had  in  the 
world.  He  charged  them  that  they  must  not  yield  to  tears,  but 
must  bless  the  Lord  on  his  account.  Then  they  were  thrust 
back  ;  and  from  the  matchlocks  death  came,  rapid,  sweet,  a  boon 
and  not  a  curse.  His  four  comrades  were  shot  together.  The 
volley  killed  three;  but  the  fourth,  while  he  was  fatally 
wounded,  was  still  conscious.  One  of  the  soldiers  saw  it,  and 
ran  on  him  with  his  sword.     Even  yet  the  indomitable  witness- 


3i8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

bearer  could  give  his  testimony.  "  Though  every  hair  of  my 
head  were  a  man,"  he  cried, "  I  am  willing  to  die  all  those  deaths 
for  Christ  and  His  cause";  and  so  he  went  through  the 
River  singing.  That  is  but  one  recital  of  martyrdom  for 
which  James  Douglas  was  responsible;  there  are  many  like 
it. 

Or  there  is  Captain  Bruce  of  Earlshall,  he  who  fought 
Richard  Cameron  at  Ayrsmoss.  The  persecution  of  the  West- 
land  saints  was  like  meat  and  drink  to  him.  In  January  1685, 
near  Straiten  in  Ayrshire,  his  men  seized  Thomas  M'Haffie, 
whom  everybody  in  the  district  reverenced  for  his  godliness. 
On  this  winter  morning  he  was  hiding  in  a  glen  adjoining  the 
village.  He  was  fevered  and  ill ;  exposure  and  rain  and  frost 
were  robbing  him  of  strength  and  hastening  him  to  the  sight 
of  his  Master.  But  he  was  to  travel  by  a  still  speedier  road 
to  the  land  where  the  inhabitant  does  not  say,  /  am  sick.  In 
his  covert  he  heard  the  soldiers  approaching,  and  rose,  and 
fled.  He  reached  the  shelter  of  a  friend's  roof;  but  there, 
exhausted,  he  threw  himself  down  ;  he  could  make  no  further 
effort.  In  a  few  minutes  Captain  Bruce  and  his  troop  entered. 
One  or  two  questions — the  usual  ensnaring  and  dishonest 
questions — were  addressed  to  him  ;  but  he  declined  to  answer. 
And  then  they  dragged  him  from  the  room,  out  to  the  high- 
road, and  shot  him  without  more  ado.  For  Thomas  M'Haffie 
the  days  of  mourning  were  ended. 

More  notorious,  however,  than  Johnstone  or  Douglas  or 
Bruce  was  Sir  Robert  Grierson  of  Lag.  Who  does  not  know 
Wandering  Willie's  Tale  in  Bedgauntlet  ?  "I  will  not  believe 
in  anything  to  match  it,"  Mr.  Ruskin  said ;  and  Grierson  is 
hero  of  the  weird  and  piquant  story.  "  Ye  maun  have  heard  of 
Sir  Robert  Redgauntlet  of  that  Ilk,  who  lived  in  these  parts 
before  the  dear  years.  Tlie  country  will  lang  mind  him ;  and 
our  fathers  used  to  draw  breath  thick  if  ever  they  heard  him 
named.  .  .  .  He  was  knighted  at  Lonon  court,  wi'  the  King's 
ain  sword ;  and  being  a  red-hot  prelatist,  he  came  down  here, 
rampaging  like  a  lion,  with  commissions  of  lieutenancy,  and 
of  lunacy,  for  what  I  ken,  to  put  down  a'  the  Whigs  and 
Covenanters  in  the  country.     Wild  wark  they  made  of  it ;  for 


THE  KILLING  TIME  319 

the  Whigs  were  as  dour  as  the  Cavaliers  were  fierce,  and  it 
was  aye  which  should  first  tire  the  other.  Eedgauntlet  was 
aye  for  the  strong  hand :  and  his  name  is  kenn'd  as  wide  as 
Claverhouse's  or  Tarn  Dalyell's.  Glen,  nor  dargle,  nor  mountain, 
nor  cave,  could  hide  the  puir  hill-folk  when  Eedgauntlet  was 
out  with  bugle  and  bloodhound  after  them,  as  if  they  had  been 
sae  mony  deer.  And  troth  when  they  fand  them,  they  didna 
mak'  muckle  mair  ceremony  than  a  Hieland'man  wi'  a  roebuck. 
It  was  just,  '  Will  ye  tak  the  Test  ?  '—if  not,  '  Make  ready ; 
present ;  fire ! ' — and  there  lay  the  recusant." 

Eedgauntlet  was  aye  for  the  strong  hand.  Yes  indeed,  there 
was  no  vestige  of  tenderness  in  Sir  Eobert  Grierson.  He  had 
not  even  the  superficial  polish  with  which  some  of  his  brother- 
Eoyalists  bedizened  their  cruelties.  He  was  as  ungracious  in 
manner  as  he  was  hard  of  heart,  a  Judge  Jeffreys  on  a  smaller 
scale.  There  is  an  acrid  pasquil  of  the  eighteenth  century 
which  immortalises  him  in  biting  words.  It  takes  the  sinners 
of  Scripture  one  by  one,  and  asks  which  may  "  with  Grier  of 
Lag  compare."  Cain  was  bloody;  but  "he  to  Lag's  latchets 
never  came."  "  Doeg  the  Edomite  did  slay  Fourscore  and  five 
priests  in  one  day "  ;  but  "  brave  Lag  did  Doeg  far  exceed." 
Herod  killed  many  "by  a  decree";  but  he  was  outrun  by 
Grierson,  who  "  in  his  person  went  To  every  place  where  he 
was  sent,  To  persecute  both  man  and  wife."  To  this  hour, 
in  Dumfries  and  Galloway,  a  paramount  horror  cleaves  to  his 
name. 

We  are  not  astonished  at  it,  when  we  read  such  an  incident 
as  that  of  John  Bell.  He  was  a  man  well  born,  the  only  son  of 
the  heiress  of  Whiteside,  in  the  parish  of  Anwoth,  who,  after 
his  father's  death,  had  for  her  second  husband  the  Viscount 
Kenmure.  Far  and  near  he  was  held  in  repute,  both  for  his 
religion  and  for  his  sagacity  and  "  mensef  ulness."  Since 
Bothwell  Brig  he  had  borne  many  trials  and  wrongs.  The 
horses  of  the  dragoons  had  "  eaten  up  all  his  meadows  " ;  the 
men  themselves  had  "  broken  down  the  very  timber  of  his  house 
and  burned  it."  In  February  1G85  the  last  of  his  griefs  arrived. 
With  four  associates,  John  Bell  fell  into  Grierson's  hands. 
Quarter  had  been  promised,  but  Lag  laughed  at  the  promise  ; 


320  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

he  commanded  that  they  should  be  shot  instantly.  "  Let  me 
spend  a  few  minutes  in  prayer,"  said  Bell.  "  What  have  you 
been  doing  so  many  years  in  these  hills  ? "  Grierson  retorted — 
"  No,  no !  you  have  prayed  enough."  And,  when  the  good  man 
was  dead,  he  would  not  let  them  bury  him ;  his  vengeance 
must  be  wreaked  on  the  lifeless  frame.  Some  weeks  later, 
he  met  Lord  Kenmure  in  Claverhouse's  company,  at  Kirkcud- 
bright. The  Viscount  upbraided  him  for  his  brutality  to  a 
kinsman,  whom  Lag  knew  to  be  of  gentle  blood  and  breeding, 
and  especially  for  his  churlish  refusal  to  allow  the  body  a 
resting-place.  But  Grierson  swore  at  him,  and  made  a  most 
offensive  reply.  "  Take  him,"  he  cried,  "  if  you  will,  and  salt 
him  in  your  beef -barrel."  In  his  anger  the  nobleman  drew  his 
sword,  and  would  have  attacked  the  man  who  had  insulted  him 
so  coarsely.  But  Claverhouse  interposed,  and  separated  the 
two. 

John  Graham  himself  was  foremost  actor  in  the  misdeeds 
of  the  Killing  Time.  His  eulogists  admit  that  he  was  "  imbued 
with  a  disregard  of  individual  rights,"  and  that,  himself  "  care- 
less of  death,  he  was  ruthless  in  inflicting  it  upon  others." 
He  was  appointed  Sheriff  of  Wigtown  in  1682 ;  and,  being  both 
magistrate  and  soldier,  he  had  special  opportunities  for  execut- 
ing the  policy  of  the  Government.  Even  little  children  did 
not  escape  his  notice.  He  would  collect  the  girls  and  boys  of  a 
country  hamlet,  some  of  them  no  more  than  six  years  of  age, 
and,  drawing  up  a  line  of  dragoons,  he  would  bid  his  victims 
pray,  because  he  intended  to  put  them  at  once  to  death. 
Sometimes,  to  heighten  their  alarm,  the  men  were  actually 
ordered  to  fire  over  their  heads.  And  then  he  would  inform 
the  poor  innocents,  terrified  that  the  close  of  life  had  come, 
that  he  was  willing  to  spare  them,  if  they  would  show  him 
where  their  fathers  or  elder  brothers  or  friends  were  concealed. 
It  is  not  easy  to  understand  how  one  so  cold-blooded  should  be 
exhibited  to  us  as  the  mirror  of  chivalry. 

A  specially  burdensome  grievance  of  those  years  was  the 
exorbitant  fines  inflicted  on  men  who  could  not  conform.  It 
was  the  boast  of  Claverhouse  that  he  never  sought  "  to  enrich 
himself " ;  but  the  boa^t  was  ill-founded.     His  avarice,  if  it  is 


GENBRAL   THOMAS   DALZKLL. 

Afier  a  CotUemporary  Print. 

Through  the  kindness  of  Metsrs.  T.  C.  and  E.  C.  Jack  of  Edinburgh. 


THE  KILLING  TIME  321 

not  so  conspicuous  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  career,  grew  with 
the  numberless  chances  he  had  of  reaping  a  harvest  from  the 
misfortunes  of  others.  It  is  proved  by  the  narrative  of  Lord 
Fountainhall,  who  draws  a  picture  of  Graham's  exactions,  and 
of  the  meanness  which  too  often  disfigured  his  procedure.  He 
spoiled  the  homes  of  the  sufferers,  whether  they  were  richer  or 
poorer.  He  wrung  from  them  the  last  farthing  of  the  extra- 
vagant dues  which  he  had  imposed.  With  all  his  anxiety  to 
force  the  people  to  accept  Episcopacy,  he  was  willing  to  release 
his  prisoners  if  he  could  secure  from  them  the  promise  of  a 
thousand  merks  a-piece.  His  rapacity  became  at  last  a  public 
scandal ;  and  the  officers  of  the  Crown  compelled  him  to  pay 
into  the  Exchequer  moneys  which  he  was  appropriating  to  his 
own  purposes.  When  they  had  to  combat  greed  as  well  as 
bloodthirstiness,  were  not  the  advocates  of  the  Covenant  in 
pitiable  case  ? 

Then  there  were  the  banishments.  Let  us  take  The  Cloud 
of  Witnesses,  and  turn  to  its  concluding  pages,  with  their  list 
of  those  driven  into  strange  lands  for  conscience'  sake.  In 
March  1684,  seven  were  sentenced  and  sent  to  West  Flanders, 
"never  to  return  under  pain  of  death."  In  July  1684,  "  were 
banished  to  Carolina  thirty,  who  were  transported  in  James 
Gibson's  ship,  called  sometime  Bailie  Gibson  in  Glasgow,  of 
whom  it  is  observed  that,  in  God's  righteous  judgment,  he  was 
cast  away  in  Carolina  Bay,  when  he  commanded  in  the  Rising 
Sun."  In  the  same  month  five  men  are  exiled  to  New  Jersey. 
In  the  following  year,  we  read  that  "  in  the  time  of  Queens- 
berry's  Parliament,  of  men  and  women  were  sent  to  Jamaica 
two  hundred."  A  little  later,  "  one  Pitlochie  transported  to 
New  Jersey  one  hundred,  whereof  twenty -four  were  women." 
Before  1685  has  ended,  "  three-and-twenty  men  and  women 
were  sent  to  Barbadoes."  And  so  the  record  pursues  its  course. 
What  ignominies,  what  agonies,  are  hidden  under  the  brief 
entries !  Often  the  vessels  were  poor  and  unseaworthy.  The 
unfortunate  captives  were  treated  with  more  than  Spartan 
harshness.  They  were  crowded  together  under  the  decks. 
They  had  insufficient  food,  and  the  scantiest  supply  of  water, 
and  scarcely  any  fresh  air.  Many  of  them  died  on  the  voyage, 
21 


322  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

and  never  saw  the  shores  of  the  Western  world.  When  they 
landed,  they  were  sold  as  slaves;  and  if  they  resisted,  and 
strove  to  retain  their  freedom,  trouble  upon  trouble  was  visited 
on  them.  "Their  cruelty  to  us,"  writes  John  Mathieson  of 
Closeburn,  "  was  tiecause  we  would  not  consent  to  our  own 
selling,  or  slavery ;  for  then  we  were  miserably  beaten,  and 
I  especially  received  nine  great  blows  upon  my  back  very 
sore,  so  that  for  some  days  I  could  not  lift  my  head  higher  than 
my  breast."  Chattels  rather  than  persons  the  Covenanting 
bondmen  seemed  to  their  taskmasters. 

In  the  experiences  of  these  exiles  romances  are  shut  up, 
which,  if  they  were  but  deciphered,  would  prove  as  thrilling  as 
any  adventures  the  novelists  give  us.  John  Mathieson  is  an 
instance  in  point.  Contriving  to  escape,  he  sailed  to  Virginia 
through  a  dangerous  storm.  Then  he  journeyed  on  foot  to 
Pennsylvania,  and  from  Pennsylvania  made  his  way  mile  by 
mile  to  New  England,  where  he  knew  of  some  Presbyterian 
friends.  But  they  had  changed  their  soul  as  well  as  their  sky, 
and  were  no  longer  so  faithful  as  they  had  once  been  ;  and  he 
could  not  stay  among  them.  With  a  saddened  heart  he  turned 
back  to  New  Jersey,  and  there  sickness  fell  on  him.  But 
strangers  entertained  him  hospitably ;  and,  when  he  recovered, 
he  bound  himself  of  his  own  accord  to  be  their  servant.  "  For, 
albeit  we  could  not  work  to  them  that  had  brouglit  us  over, 
yet  we  behoved  to  work  for  something  to  bring  us  back  again." 
All  this  while,  too,  his  Lord  was  very  gracious  to  him  in  the 
distant  land.  Twice  or  thrice  he  covenanted  with  Him,  "  on 
these  terms  that  He  would  carry  me  and  my  burden  both,  and 
save  His  noble  truth  from  being  wronged  by  me ;  and  so  I  took 
Him  for  my  King,  Priest,  and  Prophet."  There  were  seasons 
when  he  felt  such  a  clearness  of  his  interest  and  salvation,  that 
the  thought  of  it  made  him  leap  for  joy  in  the  midst  of  his 
travail.  "  For  many  and  wonderful  were  His  loving  kindnesses 
unto  me,  even  to  me,  one  of  the  silliest  things  that  ever  He 
sent  such  an  errand ;  so  that,  as  it  passes  my  memory  to  relate, 
I  think  truly  it  would  seem  incredible  to  many  to  believe, 
when  they  heard  them  told,  even  what  He  hath  done  for  poor, 
insignificant,  unworthy  me."     But  the  Heimweh,  the  home- 


THE  KILLING  TIME  323 

sickness,  was  strong ;  his  heart  hungered  to  be  back  with  the 
devoted  remnant  in  Scotland.  At  last  he  had  gathered  enough 
to  pay  his  passage  from  New  York  to  London ;  and,  after  an 
absence  of  something  over  three  years,  he  was  again  among 
those  for  whom  he  had  so  quenchless  a  desire,  "  hearing 
with  much  delight  the  Gospel  faithfully  preached,  yea, 
powerfully  preached,  by  that  shining  light,  Mr.  James 
Renwick."  Pathos  and  gladness  pursued  John  Mathieson  to 
the  close.  When  he  entered  his  own  house,  his  wife  was 
preparing  dinner  for  the  reapers  busy  among  the  yellow  corn. 
She  did  not  recognise  him ;  he  was  a  wayfarer,  she  fancied, 
who  had  come  in  at  the  open  door  to  rest  himself.  She  pressed 
him  to  take  some  food,  and,  with  hands  full,  went  out  to  the 
workers  with  their  portion.  But,  as  she  passed  him,  he  rose, 
and  followed  her  at  a  respectful  distance.  Turning  her  head, 
she  saw  him,  and,  mistaking  his  intention,  said  to  the 
bystanders,  "  The  gangrel  body  wants  a  second  dinner."  The 
words  drew  the  eyes  of  the  reapers  towards  him ;  when  one  of 
his  own  sons  whispered  to  his  mother,  "  If  my  father  is  living 
yet,  that  is  he."  She  looked  keenly  into  the  stranger's  face 
for  a  single  moment,  and  then  ran  to  his  arms,  crying,  "  My 
husband ! "  It  is  a  meeting  after  parting  as  touching,  and  as 
bonny,  as  the  meeting  of  Penelope  and  Ulysses. 

Tw^o  other  memories  of  the  Killing  Time  are  worth 
recalling.  Shall  we  name  them,  The  Stories  of  Mr,  Valiant 
and  his  Brother  ? 

We  have  not  forgotten  Captain  John  Paton  of  Meadowhead, 
who  fought  stoutly  at  Bullion  Green  and  again  at  Bothwell, 
those  twin  days  of  struggle  and  flight.  He  was  an  old  man 
now,  and  the  privations  of  a  soldier's  career  had  added  to  his 
age.  The  dragoons  had  not  much  difficulty  in  making  him 
prisoner.  In  August  of  1683,  he  was  in  a  friend's  house  near 
Kilmarnock,  when  a  party  of  five  troopers,  moving  along  the 
road,  claimed  him  as  their  prize.  It  happened,  contrary  to  his 
practice,  that  he  had  with  him  neither  pistol  nor  sword ;  but 
those  under  whose  roof  he  was  offered  him  both.  Ten 
summers  before  he  would  have  welcomed  the  offer,  and  have 
fought  the  dragoons  single-handed;  to-day   he   declined   the 


324  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

suggested  aid.  He  was  well  stricken  in  years,  he  said,  and 
worn  with  fleeing  from  place  to  place;  and  he  had  no  fear  of 
death,  for  his  portion  in  Christ's  love  and  redemption  was  sure 
— it  was  best  that  he  should  surrender  to  his  antagonists. 
But  as  yet  they  did  not  surmise  who  he  was ;  they  imagined  him 
some  venerable  preacher  of  the  Covenant.  It  was  when  they 
passed  a  farm  farther  on,  and  the  farmer,  standing  at  his  door, 
exclaimed  in  amazement,  "  Captain  Paton !  are  you  there  ? " 
that  they  discovered  the  value  of  the  booty  they  had  taken. 
From  Kilmarnock  they  carried  him  to  Ayr,  from  Ayr  to 
Glasgow,  from  Glasgow  to  Edinburgh.  General  Dalzell  saw 
him  as  he  was  led  bound  into  the  capital.  They  had  fought 
together  at  Worcester  two-and-thirty  years  past  and  gone ; 
and  there  were  fragments  of  courtesy  and  compassionateness 
surviving  still  in  the  rugged  old  persecutor.  He  embraced  the 
prisoner.  "  John,"  he  said,  "  I  am  both  glad  and  sorry  to  see 
you.  If  I  had  met  you  on  the  way  before  you  came  hither,  I 
should  have  set  you  at  liberty ;  but  now  it  is  too  late."  On 
the  impartial  tablets  of  history,  the  speech  must  be  written  to 
the  honour  of  the  rude  Muscovite  bear. 

Captain  Paton's  trial  did  not  take  place  until  the  spring  of 
1684.  He  was  condemned  on  his  confession  that  he  had  been 
at  Bothwell,  and  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged  in  the  Grass- 
market  on  Wednesday  the  23rd  of  April.  But  twice  over,  the 
first  time  on  his  own  petition,  the  second  time  perhaps  through 
the  influence  of  Dalzell,  the  execution  was  delayed.  On  the 
later  occasion  the  Clerk  of  Council  noted  in  his  books :  "  John 
Paton,  in  Meadowhead,  sentenced  to  die  for  rebellion,  and 
thereafter  remaining  in  mosses  and  moors  to  the  high  contempt 
of  authority,  reprieved  till  Friday  come  sen'night,  and  to  have 
a  room  by  himself,  that  he  may  prepare  more  conveniently  for 
death."  It  was  an  unwonted  clemency ;  but  the  interval  was 
soon  ended.  On  Friday,  the  9th  of  May,  he  was  executed, 
dying,  Wodrow  relates,  "  most  cheerfully,"  as  indeed  he  had 
always  lived.  His  last  testimony  shows  how  thoroughly  he 
had  appropriated  the  lessons  William  Guthrie  taught  him  from 
the  pulpit  of  Fenwick  Church.  "  There  is  no  safety,"  he 
declared, "  but  at  Christ's  back ;  and,  I  beseech  you,  improve 


THE  KILLING  TIME  325 

time,  for  ye  know  not  when  the  Master  calleth,  at  midnight  or 
the  cock-crowing.  Seek  pardon  freely,  and  then  He  will  come 
with  peace.  Seek  all  the  graces  of  His  Spirit — the  grace  of 
love,  the  grace  of  holy  fear  and  humility."  It  is  the  dialect  of 
The  Christian's  Gixat  Interest. 

Mr.  Valiant's  brother  was  John  Nisbet  of  Hardhill.  He  too 
had  fought  at  Pentland ;  and  not  for  twelve  months  thereafter 
were  his  wounds  altogether  healed.  With  his  own  right  hand 
lie  sent  seven  of  Claverhouse's  troopers  to  death  at  Drumclog. 
At  Bothwell  he  occupied  the  post  of  danger  at  the  bridge, 
standing  as  long  as  a  comrade  stood  beside  him.  After  that, 
he  was  a  rebel,  denounced  by  the  Privy  Council,  with  a  price 
set  on  his  head,  chased  unceasingly  from  one  concealment  to 
another.  He  had  a  wife  as  brave  as  he  was.  With  her  young 
cliildrcn  she  was  turned  adrift  upon  the  world ;  but  never  was 
she  heard  or  seen  to  show  the  least  discontentment  with  her  lot. 
Through  more  than  four  years  she  contended  against  her  great 
army  of  afflictions,  until,  on  a  December  day,  her  enfranchise- 
ment came ;  and  she  died  "  in  a  sheep's  cot,  where  was  no  light 
nor  fire  but  that  of  a  candle,  no  bed  but  that  of  straw,  no  stool 
but  the  ground  to  sit  on."  It  was  some  time  before  the  news 
that  she  had  gone  from  him  reached  her  husband.  As  soon  as 
he  heard,  he  hurried  to  the  spot,  to  find  that  her  dead  body 
had  been  in  its  grave  for  days,  and  that  meanwhile  new 
sorrows  were  sweeping  down  on  his  head.  The  first  sight  on 
which  his  eyes  lighted  was  the  rude  coffin  which  some  friendly 
hands  had  put  together,  and  in  which  he  saw  his  daughter 
lying,  her  short  race  finished  and  her  soul  flown  away  to  God. 
Glancing  round  the  hut,  he  discovered  other  troubles ;  for  in  a 
corner  two  of  his  boys  lay  in  the  delirium  of  fever.  He  spoke 
to  them,  Init  tliey  were  unconscious  of  his  presence ;  and  then 
he  groaned,  and  said,  "  Naked  came  I  into  this  world,  and 
naked  must  I  go  out  of  it ;  the  Lord  is  making  my  passage 
easy."  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that,  in  all  literature,  one  will 
encounter  any  story  more  bitter-sweet. 

At  last  John  Nisbet  had  his  liberation.  He  was  taken  on 
a  Sabbath  morning  in  November  1685.  Three  friends  in  the 
family  of  faith  had  spent  the  preceding  evening  and  night  in 


326  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

his  society,  not  sleeping  much,  but  praying  and  conversing  a 
great  deal.     With  the  day-dawn  the  soldiers  appeared.     The 
four  defended  themselves  for  a  time,  Nisbet  standing  with  his 
back  to  the  wall,  and  caring  nothing  for  the  wounds  he  received. 
But   they   were   overpowered.     The    other    three   were   shot 
immediately ;  but,  because  there  was  a  reward  of  three  thousand 
merks  offered  for  him,  he  was  bound,  and  conducted  across  the 
country  to  the  Privy  Council  in  Edinburgh.     They  tried  him 
on  the  30th  of  November,  and  ordered  his  death  in  the  Grass- 
market  four  days   later.     The   spell  of   respite  was  spent  in 
heaven  rather  than  on  earth.     Hitherto  he  had  been  a  man 
who  had  never  uttered  much  of  his  own  soul's  convictions  and 
joys ;  but   now    his   tongue  was   loosed    and   he    spake   plam. 
"  Scar  not,"  he  wrote,  "  at  Christ's  sweet,  lovely,  and  desirable 
cross ;  for,  although  I  have  not  been  able  because  of  my  wounds 
to  lift  up  or  lay  down  my  head  but  as  I  was  helped,  yet  I  was 
never  in  better  case  all  my  life.     He  has  not  given  me  one 
challenge  since  I  came  to  prison,  for  anything  less  or  more ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  He  has  so  wonderfully  shined  on  me  with 
the  sense  of  His  redeeming,  strengthening,  assisting,  supporting, 
through-bearing,  pardoning,  and   reconciling  love,  grace,  and 
mercy,  that  my  soul  doth  long  to  be  freed  of  bodily  infirmities 
and  earthly  organs,  that  so  I  may  flee  to  His  royal  palace — 
even  the  heavenly  habitation  of  my  God,  where  I  am  sure  of 
a  crown  put  on  my  head,  and  a  palm  put  in  my  hand,  and  a 
new  song  put  in  my  mouth.  .  .  .  Welcome,  welcome,  welcome, 
our  glorious  and  alone  God  !     Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  into 
Thy  hands  I  commit  my  spirit,  for  Thou  art  worthy  ! "     Mr. 
Valiant's  brother  did  not  require  to  wait  until  he  gained  the 
other  side  to   hear   tlie    trumpets    sound  for    him.     The   in- 
vigorating  music  greeted  his  ears  before  he  placed  his  foot 
in  the  waters ;  and  he  went  through  the  swellings  of  Jordan 
with  a  high  heart. 

We  cannot  exhaust  the  pains  and  the  pageants  of  the  Killing 
Time.  We  cannot  recount  all  its  sufferers  and  conquerors. 
"  It  has  not  been  possible  to  come  at  the  certain  number," 
Daniel  Defoe  says  in  a  passage  of  notable  eloquence,  "  there 
being  no  record  kept  of   their   prosecution    in  any   court   of 


THE  KILLING  TIME  327 

justice,  nor  could  any  roll  of  their  names  be  preserved  in  those 
times  of  confusion.  But  under  the  Altar,  and  about  the 
Throne  of  the  Lamb,  where  their  heads  are  crowned  and 
their  white  robes  seen,  an  exact  account  will  at  last  be 
found." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

HOW  JOHN  BROWN  WON  HIS  DIADExM. 

THE  month  of  May  in  1685  stands  out  with  a  melancholy 
pre-eminence,  a  garland  of  thorns,  among  the  dark 
months  of  the  Killing  Time.  It  saw  the  deaths  of  John 
Brown  and  of  the  Wigtown  Martyrs.  The  veracity  of  both 
histories  has  been  questioned  by  writers  whose  sympathies  are 
.  courtly  and  prelatist ;  but  both  have  been  proved  true  beyond 
dispute. 

Here,  for  example,  is  Professor  Aytoun.  In  the  appendix 
to  his  Lays  of  the  Scottish  Cavaliers,  Lays  which  persist  in 
placing  the  laurel  on  the  less  deserving  brows,  he  investigates 
at  much  length  "the  story  of  John  Brown,"  which  he  was 
"  particularly  anxious  to  expiscate."  The  "  tale,"  he  says,  "  is 
usually  brought  forward  as  the  crowning  instance  of  the  cruelty 
of  Claverhouse."  In  the  course  of  his  examination  Aytoun 
writes :  "  For  thirty-three  years  after  the  Revolution,  the  details 
of  this  atrocious  murder  were  never  revealed  to  the  public ! 
Nowhere  in  print  or  pamphlet,  memoir,  history,  or  declaration, 
published  previously  to  Wodrow — 1722 — does  even  the  name 
of  John  Brown  occur,  save  once,  in  The  Cloud  of  Witnesses,  a 
work  which  appeared  in  1714 ;  and  in  that  work  no  details 
are  given,  the  narrative  being  comprehended  in  a  couple  of 
lines."  But,  as  Dr.  Hay  Fleming  replies,  "  Aytoun's  search 
must  have  been  perfunctorily  performed."  In  a  pamphlet  by 
Alexander  Shields,  published  immediately  after  the  Kevolution, 
the  tragedy  is  thus  told :  "  The  said  Claverhouse,  in  May  1685, 
apprehended  John  Brown  in  Priesthill,  in  the  parish  of 
Moorkirk,  in  the  shire  of  Air,  being  at  his  work  about  his  own 

bouse,  and  shot  him  dead  before  his  own  door,  in  presence  of 

328 


CApi'PATOnS 
BF?0AD-5irrORD. 


JOHM  BROYyn 

^•^PRIEyrHILLS 

5YYORD. 


m 


HOW  JOHN  BROWN  WON  HIS  DIADEM        329 

his  wife."  A  year  Icater,  Grilbert  Kule  gives  a  brief  but  explicit 
account  of  the  martyrdom.  Two  years  afterwards,  there  is 
allusion  to  it  again  in  one  of  the  best-known  controversial 
books  of  the  time.  The  Eoyalist  professor  has  been  negligent 
in  his  scrutiny, 

Claverhouse,  he  would  have  us  believe,  "  was  not  present 
at  the  execution."  But  it  is  a  sheer  impossibility  to  prove  an 
alibi  for  John  Graham.  His  own  biographer,  Sheriff  Mark 
Napier,  who  sees  no  slightest  spot  on  the  face  of  the  sun,  has 
published  the  letter  which  the  persecutor  addressed  to  the 
Duke  of  Queensberry  on  Sabbath,  the  ord  of  May  1685.  These 
are  its  opening  sentences  :  "  On  Frayday  last,  amongst  the  hills, 
betwixt  Douglas  and  the  Plellands,  we  purseued  tuo  fcllous  a 
great  way  throu  the  mosses,  and  in  end  seised  them.  They 
had  no  armes  about  them,  and  denayed  they  had  any ;  but, 
being  asked  if  they  would  take  the  abguration,  the  eldest  of 
tuo,  called  John  Broun,  refused  it,  nor  would  he  swear  not  to 
ryse  in  armes  against  the  King,  but  said  he  kneu  no  King. 
Upon  which,  and  there  being  found  bullets  and  match  in  his 
house,  and  treasonable  peapers,  I  caused  shoot  him  dead : 
which  he  suffered  very  inconcernedly."  There  need  be  no 
debate  in  our  minds  either  about  the  arbitrary  conduct  of 
Claverhouse  or  about  the  triumphant  faith-keeping  of  the 
carrier  of  Priesthill.  These  are  not  the  pathetic  adornments 
of  a  skilfully  constructed  page  of  fiction.  They  are  demon- 
strated facts. 

In  his  despatch  to  Queensberry,  Claverhouse  speaks  of 
capturing,  along  with  John  Brown  himself,  "a  young  fellow 
and  his  nephew."  It  is  curious  that  neither  Eobert  Wodrow 
nor  Patrick  Walker  has  a  word  to  relate  regarding  this  second 
participant  in  the  tragedy.  Perhaps  they  forbore  to  mention 
him,  because  they  judged  him  unfaithful  to  his  vows,  one  who 
had  ingloriously  preferred  the  cowardly  road  of  compliance. 
For,  after  he  had  said  his  prayers,  and  the  carabines  had  been 
presented,  John  Graham  offered  that,  if  he  would  reveal 
something  which  might  be  of  importance  for  the  King's 
service,  he  should  himself  plead  for  his  life  with  those  in 
authority.     So  the  lad  admitted  that  he  had  been  one  of  an 


330  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

attacking  party  which,  a  day  or  two  previously,  had  assailed 
the  royal  soldiers  in  Newmilns,  and  that  he  had  come  straight 
from  this  escapade  to  his  uncle's  house.  Meantime,  while 
the  inquisitor  and  the  frightened  boy  were  engaged  in  their 
interview,  the  dragoons  had  been  searching  the  place,  and  had 
lighted,  on  a  new  piece  of  evidence.  In  a  cave  under  the 
ground  were  concealed  some  swords  and  pistols.  These  they 
brought  to  their  commander;  and  John  Brown's  nephew, 
being  confronted  with  them,  acknowledged  that  they  were  the 
property  of  his  relative,  the  man  who  lay  dead  a  few  yards 
away.  The  captain  thereupon  bade  his  troopers  put  their  cara- 
bines down,  and  sent  the  Covenanter  to  his  Lieutenant-General, 
that  the  superior  officer  might  dispose  of  him  as  he  pleased. 

No  doubt  it  was  with  the  view  of  defending  himself  from 
the  accusation  of  barbarity  in  slaying  John  Brown,  that 
Claverhouse  was  thus  particular  in  recounting  what  he  had 
learned  from  the  younger  man.  Let  it  be  confessed  that  the 
Priesthill  carrier  was  in  revolt  against  the  rulers  of  the  land  : 
are  there  not  moments  when  rebellion  is  transfigured  into 
spiritual  duty,  and  when  the  subject  clothes  himself  with  honour 
if  he  takes  rank  amongst  insurgents  ?  There  are  laws  sublimer 
than  the  statutes  of  Government — the  dictates  of  conscience, 
the  requirements  of  patriotism,  the  precepts  of  God ;  and  some- 
times he  who  reverences  the  higher  laws  must  resist  the 
lower.  But  it  may  be  argued  that  John  Graham,  being  the 
emissary  of  those  who  were  parents  of  the  bad  legislation, 
had  no  choice  but  to  punish  the  man  who  set  it  at  defiance. 
This  fact,  however,  must  hinder  us  from  condoning  him,  that 
the  damnatory  evidence  was  not  forthcoming  until  the  victim 
had  been  sacrificed ;  the  nephew  was  examined  after  the 
uncle's  murder.  In  truth,  there  was  neither  justice  nor 
mercy  in  all  the  proceeding.  No  real  assize  was  held.  No 
defence  was  permitted.  The  doom  fell  in  an  instant.  But 
it  fell  on  a  heart  which  it  could  not  impoverish  and  which 
it  was  powerless  to  affright. 

Some  five  miles  distant  from  the  town  of  Muirkirk,  up 
among  the  lonely  hills,  was  the  croft  of  Priesthill.  There  is 
no  cottage  there  to-day,  nor  any  garden  bright  with  homely 


HOW  JOHN  BROWN  WON  HIS  DIADEM        331 

flowers ;  but  the  spot  may  be  identitied  by  the  monument 
which  has  been  raised  to  the  tenant  who  made  it  famous. 
In  1685  Priesthill  was  the  abode  of  John  Brown  and  his  wife, 
Isabel  Weir.  Suspect  and  dangerous  the  husband  might  be 
in  his  politics,  but  in  personal  life  none  was  more  inoffensive  : 
the  countryside  knew  his  religion  and  his  uprightness.  An 
impediment  in  his  speech  had  forced  him  to  surrender  his 
hope  of  entering  the  office  of  the  ministry ;  but  his  reading 
and  shrewdness  and  character  fitted  him  to  be  the  teacher 
of  those  near  tlie  little  farm  who  desired  instruction  in  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  One  evening  in  each  week  he  met 
with  "  the  young  persons  of  the  neighbourhood,"  and  expounded 
to  them  the  Bible  and  the  Confession  of  Faith.  In  summer 
they  gathered  in  a  sheepfold  out  in  the  fields ;  in  winter  they 
formed  a  circle  round  the  fire  of  peat  which  blazed  on  the 
kitchen  floor  in  the  carrier's  house.  The  place  was  wild  and 
solitary,  and  round  it  the  heather  and  moss  stretched  for 
miles ;  but  it  was  a  training-school  for  theologians  and  heroes. 
Three  of  those  who  looked  to  John  Brown  as  guide  were 
afterwards  put  to  death  for  their  faith ;  and  frequently  their 
modest  teacher  was  obliged  to  secrete  himself  in  the  moors  of 
Lanarkshire  and  Kyle. 

In  1682  he  and  Isabel  Weir  had  been  married.  From  the 
first  there  were  some  drops  of  vinegar  in  their  chalice  of  joy. 
Within  the  home,  trust  and  tenderness  were  perpetual  guests, 
and  Christ  sat  at  the  humble  table.  But  to  the  wife's  heart 
forebodings  would  come,  unbidden  visitors  compelling  her  to 
listen  to  their  prophecies  of  evil.  It  was  Alexander  Peden 
who  pronounced  the  lovers  one  flesh.  When  the  simple 
ceremony  was  over,  "  Isabel,"  he  said,  "  you  have  got  a  good 
man ;  Imt  you  will  not  enjoy  him  long.  Prize  his  company, 
and  keep  linen  by  you  to  be  his  winding-sheet ;  for  you  will 
need  it  when  ye  are  not  looking  for  it,  and  it  will  be  a  bloody 
one."  Did  ever  bride  receive  so  heavy  a  benediction  ?  That 
was  why  there  were  undertones  of  sadness  in  the  music  of  Isabel 
Brown's  home-life,  and  why,  when  the  man  of  God  on  whom 
she  leaned  was  absent  longer  than  his  wont,  a  look  of  appre- 
hension  leaped  into  her  eyes.     Just  three  years  ,of  wedded 


332  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

gladness  the  two  were  to  know;  and  then  the  hour  came  when 
the  winding-sheet  had  its  dread  use. 

Again,  on  one  of  the  last  days  of  April  in  1685,  Alexander 
Peden  came  to  the  carrier's  house  at  Priesthill.  He  was 
always  an  honoured  friend,  and  he  remained  overnight — this 
gaunt  and  yet  gracious  seer  of  the  Covenant,  who,  for  the  most 
part,  had  nowliere  to  lay  his  head.  Early  on  May-day,morning 
he  said  his  farewells ;  but,  passing  out  from  the  door,  he  was 
heard  repeating  to  himself,  "  Poor  woman,  a  fearful  morning ! " 
These  words  twice  over,  and  then — "  A  dark,  misty  morning  ! " 
John  Brown  too  was  up  betimes ;  and,  having  kept  the 
worship  of  God  with  those  dearest  to  him,  he  went,  with  a 
spade  in  his  hand,  to  dig  some  peat-ground  not  far  away. 
The  mist  lay  thick  and  grey  over  everything.  Neither  he  nor 
his  nephew  dreamed  that  their  enemies  were  so  near  them. 
They  "  knew  not  until  bloody,  cruel  Claverhouse  compassed 
tliem  with  three  troops  of  horses."  There  was  no  chance  of 
flight ;  they  were  made  prisoners  and  led  back  to  the  house. 
It  was  remembered  afterwards  by  the  poor  wife  that,  in  these 
most  poignant  and  blessed  moments  of  his  life,  her  husband's 
stammering  left  him  altogether ;  he  addressed  Claverhouse  in 
clear  and  unshaken  accents.  So  noticeable  was  this  distinctness 
of  utterance  that  the  captain  inquired  of  those  who  had  directed 
him  through  the  moors  whether  they  ever  had  heard  the  tenant 
of  Priesthill  deliver  a  sermon ;  but  they  answered,  "  No,  no ! 
he  was  never  a  preacher."  "  If  he  has  not  preached," 
Claverhouse  said,  "  meikle  has  he  prayed  in  his  time " ;  and 
then,  turning  to  John,  he  added,  "  Go  to  your  prayers,  for  you 
shall  immediately  die."  So,  on  the  grass  beside  the  door, 
the  carrier  knelt  down,  to  speak  to  his  Friend  in  heaven. 
But  he  had  many  things  to  say ;  and  John  Graham,  growing 
more  and  more  impatient,  interrupted  him  three  times  over. 
It  was  not  for  himself  that  the  suppliant  was  concerned, 
although  he  was  on  the  threshold  of  death,  nor  yet  chiefly  for 
his  wife  and  little  ones ;  it  was  downtrodden  and  afflicted 
Scotland  which  lay  like  a  burden  on  his  soul.  He  was 
pleading  tliat  the  Lord  would  spare  a  remnant,  and  would  not 
make  a  full  end  in  the  day  of  His  anger.     "  I  gave  you  time 


HOW  JOHN  BROWN  WON  HIS  DIADEM        333 

to  pray,"  Claverhouse  exclaimed  angrily,  "and  yeVe  begun 
to  preach."  The  intercessor  paused  to  reprove  the  man  whose 
ignorance  was  inexcusable.  Looking  about  on  his  knees,  he 
said,  "  Sir,  you  know  neither  the  nature  of  preaching  nor  of 
praying,  that  calls  this  preaching."  Then,  for  a  short  space 
longer,  he  continued  unconfused  his  colloquy  with  the  Father 
above. 

And  now  John  Brown  "  yielded  to  Fate  as  lambs  to  the 
eagle's   pounce";   or   rather,  as   a   saint   in   a   later   century 
described   the   sunnier   side   of  death,   he   ran   to   God  with 
the   alacrity  of  a   boy  bounding  home   from   school.     When 
the    prayer    was    done,    Claverhouse    spoke    again.      "Take 
good-night  of  your  wife  and  children,"  the  lips  commanded 
which  seldom  had  any  compassion  for  stubborn  Whigs.     The 
woman  he  loved  was  standing  near,  with  a  baby  in  her  arms. 
Going  to  her,  the  martyr  said,  "  Now,  Isabel,  the  day  is  come 
that  I  told  you  would  come,  when  I  spake  first  to  you  of 
marrying  me."      She    replied,    with    a    fortitude    at    which 
probably   she   marvelled    afterwards,   "Indeed,   John,   I    can 
willingly  part  with  you."     "  That's  all  I  desire,"  he  answered ; 
"  I  have  no  more  to  do  but  die."     He  kissed  his  wife  and  the 
bairns  with  whom  he  had  both  prayed  and  played,  and  begged 
God  to  multiply  "  purchased  and  promised  blessings "  upon 
them,   and   gave   them    his    good-bye.      Then,   says   Patrick 
Walker,  "  Claverhouse  ordered  six  soldiers  to  shoot  him,  and 
the   most   part   of   the   bullets   came   upon   his  head,  which 
scattered  his  brains  upon  the  ground."     Turning  to  the  new- 
made  widow,  the  officer  asked  callously,  "  What  thinkest  thou 
of  thy  husband  now,  woman  ? "     "I  thought  ever  much  good 
of  him,"  she  responded  with  swift  loyalty,  "  and  as  much  now 
as  ever."     "  It  were  but  justice,"  he  went  on,  "  to  lay  thee 
beside  him."     "  If  ye  were  permitted,"  she  said,  "  I  doubt  not 
but  your  cruelty  would  go  that  length  ;    but   how   will   ye 
make  answer  for  this  morning's  work  ?  "     His  was  a  mocking 
and  contemptuous  retort :  "  To  man  I  can  be  answerable,  and, 
for  God,  I  will  take  Him  in  my  own  hands."     But  he  had  no 
leisure  to  bandy  more  words.     At  this  point,  we  may  believe, 
the   nephew's    examination    took    place;    and   when   it   was 


334  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

completed,  be  mounted  his  horse,  and  left  Isabel  Weir  with 
her  loved  and  holy  dead. 

For  some  hours  she  had  no  human  comforter,  so  isolated 
and  remote  the  cottage  was.  The  last  sacred  duties  were  per- 
formed without  a  neighbour's  aid ;  and,  heart-breaking  as  the 
task  was,  she  would  not  have  wished  things  otherwise ;  what 
other  fingers  had  such  incontestable  right  to  make  the  good 
confessor  ready  for  his  sleeping-place  ?  "  She  set  the  bairn 
upon  the  ground,  and  gathered  his  brains,  and  tied  up  his  head, 
and  straightened  his  body,  and  covered  him  with  his  plaid,  and 
sat  down  and  wept  over  him."  The  relief  of  tears  had  been 
granted  at  length.  Then,  after  a  time,  when  the  news  reached 
the  nearest  dwellers  in  that  wilderness  country,  a  mother  in 
Israel  found  her  way  to  Priesthill.  "  The  first  that  came  was 
a  very  fit  hand,  that  old  singular  Christian  woman  in  the 
Cummerhead,  named  Jean  Brown,  who  had  been  tried  with 
the  violent  death  of  her  husband  at  Pentland,  and  afterwards 
of  two  worthy  sons  killed  and  shot."  We  can  see  them  still, 
these  kinsfolk  in  grief,  one  with  the  white  hair  and  the  other 
with  the  dark,  as  they  wept  and  prayed  together,  until  the 
younger  could  thank  God  for  the  angel  He  had  sent  to 
minister  to  her  in  her  Gethsemane. 

Hitherto  we  have  been  following  Walker's  account  of  the 
events  of  that  May  dawn.  But  there  is  one  part  in  the  story 
where  Wodrow  gives  us  another  version.  Instead  of  relating 
how  the  six  troopers  fired  simultaneously,  he  declares  that  the 
rough  soldiers  were  so  subdued  and  broken  by  John  Brown's 
prayer  that,  "  as  my  informations  bear,  not  one  of  them  would 
shoot  him  or  obey  Claverhouse's  commands,  so  that  he  was 
forced  to  turn  executioner  himself,  and  in  a  fret  shot  him  with 
Iiis  own  hand  before  his  own  door."  The  commander  was 
capable  of  such  a  deed,  and  this  is  the  narrative  which  has 
been  commonly  accepted.  But,  because  there  is  some  uncer- 
tainty, we  may  allow  John  Graham  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

The  murder  was  committed  between  six  and  seven  in  the 
morning.  Alexander  Peden  was  then  ten  or  eleven  miles 
distant.  Before  eight  o'clock  he  found  himself  at  the  gate  of 
a  friend's  house,  and  lifted  the  latch,  and  entered  the  kitchen , 


HOW  JOHN  BROWN  WON  HIS  DIADEM        335 

craving  permission  to  pray  with  the  family.  "  Lord,"  he  said, 
"  when  wilt  Thou  avenge  Brown's  blood  ?  0,  let  Brown's 
blood  be  precious  in  Thy  sight ! "  When  the  voice  of  yearning 
and  entreaty  had  ceased,  John  Muirhead,  the  father  in  the 
home,  asked  Peden  what  he  meant  by  Brown's  blood.  "  What 
do  I  mean?"  he  answered.  "Claverhouse  has  been  at  the 
Priesthill  this  morning,  and  has  murdered  John  Brown.  His 
corpse  is  lying  at  the  end  of  his  house,  and  his  poor  wife 
sitting  weeping  by  his  corpse,  and  not  a  soul  to  speak 
comfortably  to  her."  And  then,  lifted  into  a  kind  of  ecstasy, 
he  continued,  "This  morning,  after  the  sun-rising,  I  saw  a 
strange  apparition  in  the  firmament,  the  appearance  of  a  very 
bright,  clear,  shining  star  fall  from  heaven  to  the  earth.  And 
indeed  there  is  a  clear,  shining  light  fallen  this  day,  the 
greatest  Christian  that  ever  I  conversed  with."  Into  Peden's 
eyes  "from  the  well  of  life  three  drops"  were  instilled;  his 
heart,  as  the  Quaker  apostle  said,  was  baptised  into  a  sense  of 
all  conditions ;  and  he  saw,  by  a  spiritual  intuition,  the  sorrows 
which  were  happening  in  other  parts  of  the  vineyard  of  Christ. 
One  knows  not  whether  the  courage  of  husband  or  of  wife 
is  the  more  admirable.  But  hers  were  the  loss,  the  cup  of 
gall,  the  weighty  heritage  of  pain.  He  went  instantaneously 
from  his  moorland  croft  to  the  "  lovely  city  in  a  lovely  land," 
where  "pleasures  flow  as  rivers  flow."  She  lived  on  in 
widowhood,  dowered  with  ineffaceable  memories. 

"What  think  you  now  of  your  braw  goodmau  ?" 

Ah,  woe  is  me  ! 
My  heart  was  high  when  I  began, 
My  heart  was  high,  and  my  answer  ran, 

"More  tlian  ever  he  is  to  me." 
But  when  I  laid  him  on  his  bed — 

Ah,  woe  is  me  ! — 
And  spread  the  face-cloth  over  his  head, 
And  sat  me  down  beside  my  dead, 

0,  but  my  heart  grew  sair  in  me. 
It's  well  for  men  to  be  heroes  grand — 

Ah,  woe  is  me  ! 
But  a  woman's  hearth  is  her  country,  and 
A  desolate  home  is  a  desolate  land  : 

And  he  was  all  the  world  to  me. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH. 

THE  tragedies  and  victories  of  the  May  time  of  1685  were 
not  concluded.  Little  more  than  a  week  after  Claver- 
house  had  sent  John  Brown  to  the  summer  and  the  Sabbath  of 
eternity,  young  Andrew  Hislop  refused  to  pull  his  bonnet  over 
his  eyes,  and  looked  the  death-bringers  in  the  face  without 
fear  or  shame.  On  the  very  day  of  his  triumph,  Margaret 
Lachlison  and  Margaret  Wilson  were  drowned  in  the  tides  of 
the  Solway,  because  their  wills  were  eager  and  steadfast  to 
promote  the  glory  of  Christ. 

The  persecutors  reached  the  lowest  deeps  of  infamy  when 
they  made  war  on  women.  This  drowning  is  an  indictment 
of  their  methods  and  actions  so  terrible  that  every  endeavour 
has  been  put  forth  to  represent  it  as  a  figment  of  the 
imagination.  Half  a  century  since,  Sheriff  Napier  stated 
The  Case  for  the  Crown,  and  strove  hard  to  prove  that 
never,  except  in  Covenanting  literature,  had  there  been  any 
Wigtown  Martyrs.  He  admitted  that  the  two  Margarets — 
the  widow  of  more  than  threescore,  and  the  girl  whose 
womanhood  was  yet  in  front  of  her — were  condemned  to  die. 
But,  he  asked,  did  they  not  petition  the  Government  for  a 
reprieve  ?  And  was  not  the  request  granted  ?  And  were 
they  not  transferred  from  their  Galloway  prison  to  Edinburgh 
that  they  might  await  the  announcement  of  the  King's 
pleasure  ?  And  is  it  not  the  conclusion  to  which  probability 
and  analogy  and  argument  tend,  that  the  royal  pardon  did 
actually  come  to  them,  and  that  they  went   out   from  their 

bonds  to  safety  and  freedom  ?     The  Sheriffs  questions  have  a 

336 


AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH  337 

plausible   sound,   and   we   ought   to   know  how  they  can   be 
answered. 

Over   nine   separate   districts  in   the   south   of   Scotland, 
James  Douglas,  the  kinsman  of  the  Marquis  of  Queensberry, 
and  a  man  with  whom  already  we  have  some  acquaintance, 
ruled   as  Commissioner   for  the  Privy  Council  and   for   His 
Majesty  King  James.     It  was  impossible  that  he  should  take 
personal  cognisance  of  all  that  occurred  throughout  a  juris- 
diction so  widely  extended ;  he  was  compelled  to  intrust  much 
of  his  work  to  subordinates.     Thus  he  had  no  immediate  share 
in  trying  and  sentencing  the  two  women ;  the  ugly  task  fell 
to  fom'  of  his  agents — David  Graham,  who  was  Claverhouse's 
brother,  Eobert  Grierson  of  Lag,  Major  Winram,  and  Captain 
Strachan.     They  were  men  to  whom  even  so  unchivalrous  an 
exploit  was  not  utterly  repugnant ;  and  at  a  court  held  in  the 
little  town  of  Wigtown,  on  the  13th  of  April,  they  decreed 
that  the  culprits  should  be   consigned  to  the  mercies  of  the 
Solway.     They   had,   it   must   be   acknowledged,    some   legal 
justification  for  their  barbarity.     Only  a  few  weeks  before,  the 
Privy  Council  had  ordained  that,  while  a  man  who  hesitated 
about  disowning  James  Eenwick's  Declaration  was  at  once  to 
be  hanged,  a  woman  "  who  had  been  active  in  the  said  courses 
in  a  signal   manner  "   was  to  be  drowned  in  loch   or  stream 
or   sea.     Margaret    Lachlison   and    Margaret   Wilson,    being 
followers   of    Eenwick   who   did   not   scruple   to   avow   their 
beliefs,  had  indubitably  exposed  themselves  to  the  pains  and 
penalties  of  this  extraordinary  statute. 

They  were  sentenced,  therefore;  but  did  they  not,  a  few 
days  after  their  trial,  seek  a  reprieve  ?  In  the  Eegister  House 
of  Edinburgh  may  be  seen  a  petition  addressed  to  the  Council 
by  the  older  of  the  two  sufferers,  and  authenticated  by 
"  Gulielmus  Moir,  notarius  -  publicus,"  the  suppliant  herself 
being  unable  to  write.  It  confesses  that  Margaret  Lachlison, 
prisoner  in  the  Tolbooth  of  Wigtown,  had  been  righteously 
condemned  to  death  for  "  not  disowning  that  traiterous 
apollogetical  declaration  laitlie  affixed  at  severall  paroch 
churches  within  this  kingdom,"  and  for  "  refusing  the  oath  of 
abjuration  of  the  saymein."  It  declares  that,  having  now  had 
22 


338  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

an  opportunity  of  considering  "the  said  declaratione,"  she 
realised  that  it  conduced  to  "nothing  but  rebellione  and 
seditione,"  and  was  "quyt  contrair  unto  the  wrytin  word  of 
God,"  and  so  she  was  "  content  to  abjure  the  same  with  her 
whole  heart  and  soull."  It  beseeches  his  Grace  the  Lord  High 
Commissioner,  and  the  remanent  lords  of  His  Majesty's  Most 
Honourable  Privy  Council,  to  "  take  pitie  and  compassione  "  on 
the  offender,  and  to  "  recall  the  foirsaid  sentence  so  justlie 
pronouncet."  And,  finally,  it  promises  that  "  your  supplicant 
shall  leive  ane  good  and  faithful  subject  in  tyme  cuming,  and 
shall  frequent  the  ordinances,  and  shall  give  what  other 
obedience  your  Grace  and  remanent  Lords  sail  prescryve." 
Such  was  the  petition;  and,  although  no  document  has  been 
found  which  makes  these  admissions  and  solicits  these  favours 
in  the  younger  woman's  name,  the  likelihood  is  that  the 
authorities  in  Edinburgh  were  approached  on  her  behalf  too. 
For,  on  the  30  th  of  April,  the  Privy  Council  granted  a  reprieve 
to  both ;  and,  once  again,  life  and  liberty  seemed  to  lie  within 
the  grasp  of  the  prisoners.  Death  had  come  very  close ;  but, 
meanwhile,  his  advance  was  checked,  and  perhaps  he  might  be 
routed  altogether  and  driven  away. 

But  no  one  who  reads  this  petition  with  unbiassed  mind 
will  maintain  that  it  is  couched  in  Margaret  Lachlison's  own 
language,  or  that  it  photographs  exactly  her  sentiments  and 
thoughts.  It  was  drawn  up  for  her  by  friends,  who  were 
afflicted  in  her  affliction  and  would  fain  have  effected  her 
escape.  She  was  unlettered,  although  she  was  not  ignorant  of 
God's  mysteries  and  of  the  secrets  which  Christ  keeps  for  those 
whom  He  loves.  She  could  not  have  written  the  craven  parch- 
ment ;  and  it  appears  incredible  that  she  could  have  inspired 
its  paragraphs.  For,  a  day  or  two  previously,  she  had  pro- 
tested before  her  judges  her  whole-hearted  approval  of  that 
which  she  was  made  now  to  scorn  and  deny  and  trample 
in  the  dust.  And  when  we  turn  to  Margaret  Wilson,  the 
conviction  is  deepened  that  the  recantation  and  the  appeal  did 
not  originate  directly  with  the  sufferers.  She  had  received 
that  schooling  which  her  comrade  lacked,  and  in  her  prison 
she   set   herself   to   compose  an  Apologia — a  defence  of  "  her 


AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH  339 

refusing  to  save  her  life  by  taking  the  Abjuration."  The  more 
we  ponder  the  matter,  the  clearer  it  becomes  that  the  petition 
for  mercy  proceeded  not  from  the  women  themselves  but  from 
kindly  neighbours,  who  felt,  it  may  be,  in  how  much  discredit 
the  execution  of  the  sentence  would  involve  the  Government, 
and  who  were  unfeignedly  anxious  to  succour  those  with  whom 
they  were  linked  in  acquaintanceship  and  intimacy. 

The  reprieve  itself  is  curiously  worded.  It  leaves  a  blank 
where  we  should  expect  to  find  inserted  the  date  on  which 
the  days  of  grace  were  to  expire.  And  it  "discharges  the 
Magistrates  of  Edinburgh,"  and  not  the  Provost  and  Bailies 
of  Wigtown,  from  carrying  out  the  sentence  which  had  been 
pronounced.  The  date  may  have  been  designedly  kept  in 
suspense,  that  time  might  be  allowed  for  procuring  the  King's 
forgiveness,  if  tlie  culprits  should  actually  swear  the  oath  that 
was  demanded  of  them.  It  is  more  difficult  to  understand  the 
allusion  to  the  civic  rulers  of  Edinburgh.  On  the  ground 
of  it,  Sheriff  Napier  contended  that,  having  satisfied  the 
authorities  in  Wigtown  of  their  penitence,  the  two  Margarets 
were  conveyed  to  the  Scottish  capital,  and  were  detained  there 
until  the  decision  as  to  their  ultimate  fate  should  come  from 
Whitehall.  But  there  is  not  a  shred  of  proof  for  this  theory, 
and  there  are  many  testimonies  to  the  fact  that  the  women 
were  never  removed  from  Galloway.  Probably  the  intention 
was  to  carry  them  to  Edinburgh  if  only  they  had  shown  them- 
selves pliable  and  complaisant,  and  to  intimate  to  them  within 
its  walls  their  final  pardon.  The  rulers  were  much  too  shrewd 
to  liberate  the  delinquents  in  the  same  provincial  town  where 
they  had  been  condemned,  and  among  the  people  most  keenly 
interested  in  their  welfare.  They  would  themselves  have 
reaped  a  harvest  of  contempt,  they  would  have  been  taunted 
with  their  own  unmistakable  defeat,  if  they  had  done  so. 
Prudence  required  that  the  reversal  of  their  sentence  should 
be  accomplished  at  a  safe  distance.  So  the  magistrates  of  the 
capital  were  selected  instead  of  their  municipal  brothers  in 
Wigtown,  and  the  design  was  that  tlicy  should  be  the  latest 
actors  in  the  drama.  But  the  prisoners  spoiled  the  well- 
planned     scheme     by     their     recalcitrancy.        They    refuaed 


340  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

stubbornly  to  take  the  Abjuration  Oath.  And  thus  they 
never  saw  the  High  Street,  and  the  crown  of  St.  Giles,  and 
the  Tolbooth  where  many  of  their  spiritual  kindred  had  lain. 
From  Wigtown  .Gaol  they  were  led  out  to  die. 

That  neither  in  one  part  of  Scotland  nor  in  another  did 
King    James's    pardon    bring    enfranchisement   to   Margaret 
Lachlison  and,  her  virgin  sister   in  Christ   is   as   certain   as 
any  historical  fact  can  be.    Dr.  Archibald  Stewart,  the  minister 
of  Glasserton,  replied  to  Sheriff  Napier;   and  the  refutation 
was    overwhelmingly    complete.      There    are    five    witnesses. 
Dr.  Stewart   says,  to  demonstrate  the  truth   of   the  Solway 
martyrdom.     There   is   tradition :   could  there  have  been  the 
persistent  and  undying  story,  the  universal  local  belief  in  the 
reahty  of  the  execution,  if  "  the  cruel  crawling  foam "  never 
crept  up  and  up  until  all  was  over  ?     There  is  the  evidence 
of  old   pamphlets :    in    the   Informatory   Vindication  of  1687 
reference   is   found   to   what   the   persecutors    had    done    in 
"drowning   women,  some   of   them   very  young  and  some  of 
exceeding   old   age";    in   A  Hind  Let   Loose,  published   im- 
mediately afterwards,  the  indictment  is  reiterated — "Neither 
were  women  spared  ;   but  some  were  hanged,  some   drowned 
tied  to  stakes  within  the  seamark,  to  be  devoured  gradually 
with   the   growing  waves";   and  these  are  but  precursors  of 
many  similar  reminiscences  of  the  grim  event.     There  are  the 
unequivocal  assm'ances  of  the  earliest  histories :  Daniel  Defoe, 
for  example,  came  to  Scotland  in  1706,  and  gathered  personally 
the   materials  for  his  Memoirs  of  the  Church,  applying  to  the 
most  trustworthy  sources  of  information ;  and  he  is  visited  by 
no  doubts  on  the  subject  of  the  martyrdom.     There  are   the 
minutes   of   the  Church  courts — the  Synod  of  Galloway,  the 
Presbytery  of  Wigtown,  the  Kirk-Sessions  of  Kirkinner  and 
Wigtown  and  Penningham :  for,  in  the  commencement  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  Church  of  Scotland  enjoined  its  various 
judicatories  throughout  the  country  to  collect  accounts  of  the 
sufferings  for  religion  in  the  troublous  times  which  were  then 
happily  past ;  and,  down  in  the  south-west,  as  these  minutes 
narrate,  numbers   came   forward   to   tell   how  they  had  been 
familiar  with  Margaret  Lachlison  and  Margaret  Wilson,  how 


AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH  341 

they  knew  the  manner  of  life  the  godly  women  had  lived,  and 
how  their  sorrowful  and  yet  glorious  death  was  graven  indelibly 
on  mind  and  heart.  And,  last  of  all,  there  is  the  younger 
confessor's  tombstone  in  Wigtown  Churchyard — a  tombstone 
which  was  erected  within  the  lifetime  of  those  who  could 
remember  the  occurrences  of  1685,  and  which  in  rude  and 
vivid  rhyme  relates  that 

Within  the  sea  ty'd  to  a  stake 
She  suffered  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake. 

It  is  a  fivefold  cord  which  cannot  easily  be  broken. 

Who  will  testify  that  the  tragedy  indubitably  took  place  ? 

Bailie  M'Keand  will.  On  the  8th  of  July  1704,  he  came  to 
the  Kirk-Session  in  Wigtown,  a  man  of  a  broken  spirit,  and 
begged  that  again  he  might  enjoy  the  high  privilege  of  par- 
taking, side  by  side  with  the  members  of  the  Church,  in  the 
sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  He  spoke  of  "  the  grief  of 
his  heart  that  he  should  have  sitten  on  the  seize  of  these  women 
who  were  sentenced  to  die  in  this  place  in  the  year  1G85,  and 
that  it  had  been  frequently  his  petition  to  God  for  true  repent- 
ance and  forgiveness  for  that  sin."  And  the  elders,  having 
inquired  into  the  carriage  of  the  Bailie  since  the  epoch  of  his 
transgression,  and  ])eing  satisfied  that  his  contrition  was  sincere 
and  deep,  admonished  him,  and  granted  him  the  boon  he  craved, 
and  exhorted  him  to  "  due  tenderness  in  such  solemn  address 
unto  God."  Over  in  New  England,  in  Bailie  M'Keand's  day, 
Judge  Sewall — "  Samuel  Sewall,  the  great  and  wise  " — rose  one 
Sabbath  in  the  Old  South  Church  of  Boston,  and  before  the 
minister,  Mr.  Willard,  and  in  the  hearing  of  the  congregation, 
avowed  with  downcast  head  and  faltering  voice  his  heinous 
crime  in  sending  tlic  Salem  witches  to  death  five  years  before. 
The  Massachusetts  lawyer  and  the  Galloway  magistrate  were 
brothers  in  their  error  and  in  their  penitence.  But  Bailie 
M'Keand's  remorse  would  not  have  been  so  penetrating  and 
so  profound,  if  the  saints  whom  he  condemned  had  never  really 
been  subjected  to  the  unjust  punishment  which  he  meted  out 
to  them. 

And   Elizabeth  Milliken  will  testify.     She  was   Margaret 


342  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Lachlison's  daughter,  and  was  already  a  married  woman  before 
the  month  of  May  in  1685.  It  was  in  her  husband's  house  at 
Drumjargan  that  her  mother  was  seized  by  the  soldiers ;  from 
its  threshold  the  prisoner  was  hurried  to  "Wigtown,  three  miles 
distant,  to  be  tried  and  doomed.  She  must  have  known  whether 
one  so  dear,  to  whom  she  was  bound  by  the  tenderest  ties, 
swore  the  oath  on  which  such  tremendous  issues  hinged,  and 
was  released  from  the  dungeon,  and  returned  to  Drumjargan  to 
close  her  quiet  days.  But  what  she  did  know  seems  to  have 
been  wholly  different.  Long  afterwards,  in  1718,  as  Eobert 
Wodrow  recounts,  she  still  met  with  her  martyred  parent  in 
visions  of  the  night.  She  told  Mr.  Campbell,  her  minister, 
how  she  dreamed  tliat  "  her  mother,  Margaret  Lachlison,  came 
to  her  at  the  Cross  of  Wigtown,  with  the  garb,  gesture,  and 
countenance  that  she  had  five  minutes  before  she  was  drowned 
in  Bladnoch."  A  daughter's  memories  of  a  mother's  home- 
going  to  God  are  not  to  be  lightly  gainsaid. 

And  Thomas  Wilson  will  testify.  He  was  the  girl  Margarei's 
brother,  two  years  younger  than  she.  He  had  shared  some  of 
his  sister's  conflicts,  but  was  permitted  to  escape  participation  in 
that  "  one  fight  more,  the  best  and  the  last,"  in  which  her  brief 
warfare  wasconsummated.  Half  a  century  after  her  death,  he 
was  an  elder,  much  consulted  and  revered,  in  Penningham  Kirk. 
But  in  the  minute-book  of  the  kirk,  as  he  knew  well,  there  was 
written  a  detailed  and  circumstantial  recital  of  his  sister's 
drowning  on  Wigtown  sands.  He  never  contradicted  the 
recital ;  he  allowed  it  to  remain  on  the  page  where  the 
minister  had  inscribed  it  as  a  true  relation  of  a  veritable  event. 
Thomas  Wilson,  being  the  man  he  was,  could  not  perpetrate  a 
falsehood.  He  suffered  the  record  to  continue  undisputed, 
because  no  one  understood  better  than  he  how  incontestable  it 
was. 

We  have  tarried  sufficiently  long  in  this  "  still-vexed  Ber- 
moothes."     Let  us  get  to  the  immortal  story  itself. 

Of  Margaret  Lachlison,  or  Maclachlan,  as  tlie  name  would 
be  spelled  in  our  modern  time,  there  is  little  to  be  told.  She 
was  poor  in  the  world's  gear,  a  widow,  and  at  least  sixty-three 
years  of  age  when  persecution  dragged  her  out   to   fame.     A 


AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH  343 

Cameronian  in  her  ecclesiastical  beliefs,  she  was  rich  in  faith  and 
a  princess  in  the  court  of  heaven.     About  her  companion  more 
can  be   said.     Margaret  Wilson  was  the  daughter  of  Gilbert 
Wilson,  farmer  in  Glenvernock.     He  and  his  wife  were  unim- 
peachable  in  their  adhesion  to  Episcopacy  ;  "  a  man   to   ane 
excesse  conform  to  the  guise  of  the  tymes,"  and  she  "  without 
challenge   for  her   religion" — so  they  are   portrayed   in   Mr. 
Rowan's  Penningham  minute.     But  seldom   have   good   Pre- 
latists  been   more   tried   by  the  obstinacy  of   their  children. 
Margaret,  who  was  eighteen,  Thomas,  who  was  sixteen,  even 
little  Agnes,  who  had  just  passed  her  thirteenth  birthday,  with 
one   consent  resolutely  declined  to  adopt   the  creed  of   their 
parents.     "  They,  being  required  to  take  the  Test  and  hear  the 
curates,  refused  both ;  were  searched  for,  fled,  and  lived  in  the 
wild  mountains,  bogs,  and  caves."     Alike  in  the  farm  and  on 
the  hills,  life  grew  harder  and  more  severe.     Little  by  little 
Gilbert  Wilson's  substance  became  the  prey  of  those  who  were 
determined  to  make  him  suffer  for  the  waywardness   of   his 
family.     And  the  young  people  were  outlawed ;  their  friends 
were  forbidden  to   give  them  houseroom   or  to   supply  their 
necessities ;  the  cottars  and  shepherds  were  obliged  to  pui'sue 
them  with  hue  and  cry.     There  could  be  only  one  ending  to 
such  a  state  of  things. 

It  came  in  February  of  1685.  Then,  Thomas  still  keeping 
the  mountains,  Margaret  and  Agnes  ventured  to  creep  forth 
from  their  place  of  hiding  and  to  steal  down  to  Wigtown,  com- 
pelled by  the  privations  which  they  had  been  enduring.  But 
they  were  discovered,  and  locked  up  in  prison,  in  the  Thieves' 
Hole,  where  the  worst  malefactors  were  their  associates.  For 
six  or  seven  weeks  they  lay  in  the  dismal  place ;  and  then,  in 
April,  having  been  charged  with  the  guilt  of  Bothwell  Brig  and 
Ayrsmoss  and  the  Apologetical  Declaration — for  their  judges 
were  capable  of  any  monstrosity — they  were  sentenced,  along 
with  widow  Lachlison — sentenced  to  be  "  ty'd  to  palisados  fixed 
in  the  sand,  within  the  floodmark,  and  there  to  stand  till  the 
flood  overflowed  them  and  drowned  them."  Gilbert  Wilson 
succeeded  with  much  difficulty  in  saving  the  life  of  thirteen- 
year-old  Agnes.     It  meant  a  journey  to  Edinburgh,  and  the 


344  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

payment  of  a  hundred  pounds  sterling — no  slight  achievement 
when  he  had  been  so  impoverished  by  the  rapacity  of  the 
dragoons.  But  her  sister,  although  she  had  the  short  breathing- 
space  secured  by  the  reprieve,  resisted  steadily  every  attempt 
to  shake  her  fidelity,  and  looked  on  with  fearless  eyes  to  the 
moment  of  death. 

So,  on  the  11th  of  May,  the  two  women,  widely  separated  in 
years,   but  equally  enamoured  of  what  they  regarded  as   the 
very  truth  of  God,  were  marched  from  their  gaol  to  the  shore. 
That   those  who   superintended  the  execution — Grierson  was 
there,  and  Major  Winram — still  supposed  that  their  prisoners 
might  yield  at  the  last,  when  they  felt  the  approach  of  the 
merciless  waters,  is  manifest  from  the  efforts  which  were  made 
even  on  the  sands  to  weaken  their  resolution.     With  the  help 
of  the  old  records  we  can  imagine  the  scene.     The  course  of 
the  little  Bladnoch  has  been  changed  in  subsequent  times  by 
embankments,  raised  with  the  purpose  of  redeeming  land  from 
the  sea.     But,  two  hundred  years  ago,  the  channel  it  had  cut 
for  itself  was  close  beside  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  Wigtown 
stands,  and  the  coasting  sloops  could  sail  almost  up  to  where 
the  church  and  the  churchyard  are   to-day.     Then,  when   it 
left  the  streets  and  houses,  the  stream  took  a  bend  seaward, 
fashioning  for  its  progress  a  deep  canal-like  path  in  the  soft 
sand.     At  low  water  the  Solway  recedes  for  miles,  and  it   is 
over  the  naked  sands  that  the  Bladnoch  trickles  to  its  goal. 
But,  when  the  tide  returns,  it  rushes  rapidly  up  the   river's 
path,  and  by  and  by  it  overflows  the   banks  on   both   sides. 
What  the  officials  of  the  burgh  did,  under  Lag's  and  Winram's 
directions,  was   to  drive  two  stakes  into  the  channel  of   the 
stream,  at  no  great  distance  from  where  it  leaves  the  houses 
and  turns  to  the  sea.     One  of  the  stakes  was  farther  out,  the 
other  nearer  the  town.     To  the  former  they  fastened  Margaret 
Lachlison,  to  the  latter  Margaret  Wilson.     Meanwhile,  so  long 
as  the  inrushing  Solway  would  permit  them,  the  persecutors 
and  some  of  the  kinsfolk  of  the  sufferers  stood  on  the  banks  of 
the  Bladnoch,  waiting  for  any  indication  that  the  martyrs  were 
wavering  in  their  resolve,  and  prepared  to  pull  them  from  the 
quickly  deepening  flood  to  the  higher  ground.     But  they  could 


^^^^)^rl'^t;7::2^^:^7'u^. 


SIR   KOBEBT   GRIERSON'S   COAT   OF   ARMS  AND   AUTOGRAPH. 


AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH  345 

not  tarry  for  any  length  of  time,  because  soon  the  banks  them- 
selves would  be  surmounted  by  the  advancing  tide,  and  their 
own  security  would  be  imperilled. 

There   are  different   styles   in   which  the  brave  confront 
and  conquer  death.     There  is  what  one  may  denominate  the 
French  way — the  way  which   is   marked   by   dan,  vivacious 
gaiety,  reckless  and  joyous  abandonment.     It  is  almost  pyro- 
technic in  its  gallant  mockery  of  the  last  enemy.     It  greets 
the    unseen   with   a    cheer.      Those    as   young   as    Margaret 
Wilson,  and  younger  still  than   she,  have  illustrated  splen- 
didly this  rash  and  romantic  mode.     At  twenty,  Henri  de  la 
Kochejaquelein,  fair-haired,  enthusiastic,  gently  bred,  addressed 
his  hastily  summoned  troop :  "  I  am  only  a  boy ;  but  I  will 
prove  that  I  desire  to  lead  you.     When  I  advance,  do  you 
follow  me ;  when  I  flinch,  cut  me  down ;  when  I  fall,  avenge 
me  ! "     And  he  had  soldiers  yet  more  boyish  than  himself,  and 
just  as  eager  to  champion  King  Louis  against  the  Revolu- 
tionaries.    Beaurepaire  joined  the  tiny  army  at  eighteen,  and 
fell   at   Chatillon,  pierced  with   twelve  sabres.     Duchaffault, 
no  more  than  eleven,  having  been  sent  back  to  his  mother, 
rode  into  the  ranks  again  at  Lu9on,  to  dedicate  himself  in  glad 
sacrifice  for  the  cause.     But,  over  against  so  merry  a  defiance 
of  the  adversary,  there  is  the  Scottish  way  of  dying.     It  may 
be  as  courageous,  but  gravity  and  temperance   mingle  with 
the  courage.     It  is  infinitely  more  thoughtful,  more  pensive, 
less  exuberant.     It  looks  in  to  see  how  things  go  with  the 
soul,  and  it  looks  on  to  the  august  presence  of  God  the  Judge ; 
and  therefore  there  are  the  accents  of  confession  as  well  as  the 
notes  of  confidence  and  song,  and  it  is  with  a  lowly  humility 
that   faith   claims  her   inheritance   in    the   skies.     This   was 
Margaret  Wilson's   method.     Hoping   that   the   sight  of   her 
friend's  last  struggle  would  dismay  her  into  submission,  they 
bound  the  old  woman  to  the  stake  which  the  water  reached 
first ;  and,  when  the  Solway  was  doing  its  pitiless  work,  they 
asked   the   girl   what   she    thought   of    her   companion   now. 
"  What  do  I  see,"  she  answered,  "  but  Christ  wrestling  there  ? 
Think  ye  that  we  are  the  sufferers  ?     No,  it  is  Christ  in  us ; 
for  He  sends  none  a  warfare  on  their  own  charges."     Then 


346  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

opening  her  New  Testament,  she  read  aloud  the  eighth 
chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Eomans — the  great  chapter 
which  tells  how  the  condemnation  of  sin  is  cancelled  by  the 
Saviour ;  and  how  the  spirit  of  adoption  delivers  from 
bondage  and  fear;  and  how  nothing,  neither  death  nor  life, 
can  separate  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord.  The  chapter  finished,  she  sang  her  farewell  psalm — 
the  25th  Psalm,  from  the  seventh  verse — 

My  sins  and  faults  of  youth 

Do  Thou,  0  Lord,  forget ; 
After  Tliy  mercy  tliink  on  me, 

And  for  Thy  goodness  great. 

It  is  not  "  Monsieur  Henri's "  way  of  facing  the  King  of 
Terrors ;  but  perhaps  it  is  a  better  way. 

Even  at  the  last  she  might  have  kept  her  life.  Before  the 
end  came,  they  pulled  her  from  the  grip  of  the  tide ;  and, 
liolding  her  until  she  was  able  to  speak,  they  inquired  if  she 
would  pray  for  King  James.  "  I  wish  the  salvation  of  all 
men,"  she  responded,  "  and  the  damnation  of  none."  Some 
who  were  related  to  her  by  ties  of  blood  cried  out,  "  She  is 
willing  to  conform,"  reading  into  her  words  the  significance 
which  they  longed  to  find.  "  Dear  Margaret,"  entreated 
another  of  the  bystanders,  "  say,  God  save  the  King  ! "  "  God 
save  him  if  He  will !  "  she  replied,  "  for  it  is  his  salvation  that 
I  desire."  "  She  has  said  it !  she  has  said  it  I"  numbers  in  the 
crowd  exclaimed.  But  Major  Winram  was  not  so  sure.  He 
offered  to  administer  the  Oath  of  Abjuration  to  her.  If  she 
accepted  it,  there  would  be  no  drowning ;  if  she  spurned  it  as 
she  had  done  formerly,  she  must  return  to  the  waters.  No 
doubt  life  was  as  sweet  to  her  as  it  is  to  most  girls  of 
eighteen ;  but,  when  conscience  was  in  hazard  of  being 
wounded,  there  could  not  be  a  minute's  hesitancy.  "  I  will 
not,"  she  said  ;  "  I  am  one  of  Christ's  children ;  let  me  go." 
They  plunged  her  again  into  the  tide,  which  soon  would  be 
at  its  deepest;  and,  in  a  few  seconds  more,  her  battle  had 
terminated  in  victory.  To  some  of  us  it  may  seem  a  little 
matter  for  which  she  and  her  comrade  suffered.     But  to  them 


AT  THE  WATER  OF  BLADNOCH  347 

it  was  not  little,  for  it  was  part  of  the  faith  committed  to  their 
keeping.  It  was  a  fringe  of  Christ's  royal  robe,  and  in  their 
hands  no  harm,  however  apparently  trifling,  must  befall  the 
seamless  vesture  of  their  Monarch.  Like  the  Christians  of 
the  first  days,  they  would  not  cast  so  much  as  a  single  grain 
of  incense  on  the  heathen  altars  of  Diana. 

Years  after  the  crime  at  the  Bladnoch  had  become  a 
sombre  incident  of  the  past,  a  broken  old  man  might  be  seen 
wandering  alone  through  the  streets  of  Wigtown.  He  was 
afflicted  with  an  unquenchable  thirst— a  thirst  so  unusual 
that  he  never  dared  to  venture  abroad  without  carrying  with 
liim  a  large  jar  full  of  water.  As  he  moved  slowly  forward 
with  his  singular  burden,  the  people  who  met  liim  would 
involuntarily  shrink  back.  They  believed  that  they  knew  the 
origin  of  his  strange  disease.  This  man  had  been  the  Town's 
Officer  of  Wigtown,  who,  when  Margaret  Wilson  was  raised 
out  of  the  stream,  and  when  she  declared  that  she  could  not 
preserve  her  life  by  uttering  the  few  words  that  would  have 
sufficed,  thrust  her  down  with  his  halbert,  saying,  "Tak' 
anither  drink,  hinny  ! "  and  bidding  her  "  clep  wi'  the  partons  " 
— gossip  with  the  crabs.  In  his  own  body,  his  townsmen 
fancied,  he  was  reaping  the  harvest  of  his  misdeeds. 

Salvations  vary  in  their  character.  Mrs.  Oliphant  describes 
a  scene  which  happened  on  Sol  way  sands  rather  more  than  a 
century  later  than  the  May  of  1685.  While  they  were  still 
children,  John  Irving  and  his  younger  brother  Edward — "  true 
friend  and  tender  heart,  martyr  and  saint " — strayed  down  to 
the  shore,  with  the  intention  of  meeting  their  uncle,  George 
Lowther,  who  was  expected  to  cross  at  the  ebb  from  the 
Cumberland  side.  But  in  the  wilderness  of  shingle,  with  its 
gleaming  salt-water  pools,  full  of  curious  creatures,  the  boys 
presently  forgot  their  errand,  and  thought  neither  of  their 
relative  nor  of  the  rising  tide.  While  they  were  absorbed  in 
their  amusement,  a  horseman  suddenly  came  up  to  them, 
seized  first  one  and  then  the  other,  and,  throwing  them  across 
the  neck  of  his  horse,  galloped  on  without  pausing  to  speak 
or  even  perceiving  who  they  were.  When  they  had  safely 
reached  the  higher  bank,  he  drew  bridle,  and  pointed  back 


348  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

breathless  to  where  he  had  found  them.  The  startled  children 
saw  the  tawny  waves  pursuing  almost  to  where  they  stood ; 
and  then  "  the  happy  Hercules-uncle "  discovered  who  they 
were  whom  he  had  saved.  They  were  fortunate  in  their 
deliverer ;  but  young  Margaret  Wilson  had  a  better  redemp- 
tion— 

the  intrepid  maid  for  whom 
Old  Solway  piled  his  waters  monuruental, 
And  gave  that  glorious  heart  a  glorious  tomb 
AVorth  Scotia's  rental. 

For,  when  the  impetuous  sea  had  done  its  work,  it  was  the 
strong  right  arm  of  Christ  Himself  which  received  her  spirit. 


CHAPTER   XXXIL 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  GEORGE  BRYSSON,  MERCHANT. 


M 


E.  EUSKIN  has  told  us  that,  in  our  intellectual  life,  we 
need  not  only  what  is  sublime  and  vast,  but  what 
is  soft  and  silent  and  small;  and  that  we  turn  from  the 
magnitudes  and  majesties  of  nature  to  find  in  a  wild  flower 
or  a  snowflake  or  a  foam-bell  bread  enough  and  to  spare.  As 
we  read  history,  it  must  be  an  exceeding  comfort  to  many  of 
us  to  see  that  God  has  innumerable  servants  no  more  imposing 
than  foam-bells  and  snowflakes  and  wild  flowers.  In  the 
annals  of  the  Covenant  an  Isabel  Alison  figures  less  con- 
spicuously but  no  less  honourably  than  a  Lady  Balcarres,  and 
George  Brysson  as  well  as  Lord  Wariston  wins  for  himself  a 
good  degree.  He  was  neither  preacher  nor  lawyer  nor  captain  ; 
but,  when  we  look  into  his  face  as  he  paints  it  in  his  own 
Memoirs,  we  pronounce  it  a  face  which  has  frankness  and 
honesty  written  on  every  feature.  It  gains  our  trust  and 
deserves  our  love. 

The  son  of  a  farmer  in  Midlothian,  born  in  the  eventful 
year  which  beheld  the  death  of  King  Charles  the  First,  he  was 
an  apprentice-boy  in  Edinburgh,  when,  as  he  listened  to  a 
sermon  from  that  "  very  worthy,  famous,  godly  minister,  Mr. 
James  Kirkton,"  the  power  came  along  with  the  Word,  and 
the  Lord  opened  his  prison  doors,  and  he  was  made  to  wonder 
at  God's  surprising  goodness  towards  him.  Thereafter  he  was 
done  with  the  curates  and  their  pithless  prelections ;  let  the 
results  be  what  they  might,  George  Brysson  must  keep  close 
by  the  ordinances  which  had  become  so  sweet  and  refreshing. 
Soon  he  had  his  first  taste  of  the  troubles  of  nonconformity.  His 
master,  a  kindly  man  but  no  enthusiast,  was  seized  with  alarm 


350  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

lest  the  imprudences  of  his  apprentice  should  compromise 
himself  and  hurt  his  trade.  He  sent  for  the  boy's  father,  who, 
when  he  arrived,  "  gave  him  a  very  sore  onset,"  assuring  him 
that  he  had  expected  better  things  than  that  his  only  son 
should  be  a  follower  of  men  forbidden  by  law  to  preach,  and 
that,  if  he  persisted  in  his  obstinacy,  he  must  disown  him 
altogether.  But  the  young  convert's  zeal  was  not  daunted  by 
the  threat.  "  Father,"  he  said,  "  I  am  sorry  to  hear  such  words 
coming  from  you.  If  you  had  found  me  guilty  of  cursing, 
swearing.  Sabbath-breaking,  stealing,  or  uncleanness,  you 
would  have  ground  to  disown  me.  But,  seeing  the  Lord  has 
kept  me  from  these  things,  and  that  the  only  quarrel  is  my 
hearing  the  Gospel  when  I  have  opportunity,  I  cannot  help 
it."  Bravery  so  outspoken  was  not  to  be  resisted,  and  love 
put  discretion  to  flight  in  the  older  man's  heart.  "  My  dear 
bairn,"  he  cried,  breaking  into  ready  tears,  "  God  forbid  that 
ever  I  should  hinder  you  from  going  where  you  may  get 
most  good  for  your  soul !  "  And  thus  George  Brysson  fought 
his  initial  battle,  and  came  forth  successful. 

It  preluded  many  similar  battles.  A  year  or  two  later  his 
father  died,  and  the  lad  was  called  away  from  business  to 
take  charge  of  the  farm.  But  he  had  not  been  many  months 
at  home  when  the  landlord.  Sir  Eobert  Preston,  a  Judge  in 
the  Court  of  Session,  summoned  the  tenants,  that  he  might 
compel  them  to  sign  one  of  the  numerous  bonds  or  engage- 
ments of  the  time  against  conventicles,  and  those  who  con- 
ducted them.  Most  of  the  farmers,  overawed,  meekly  did  as 
they  were  enjoined.  But  our  yoimg  confessor  stood  staunch 
as  a  rock.  "  George,"  Sir  Robert  said,  "  I  know  you  can  write  ; 
take  the  pen,  and  subscribe  this  bond."  But  George  was 
inflexible.  "  My  lord,"  he  answered,  "  I  cannot.  I  durst  not 
bind  up  myself  from  hearing  the  Cospel  preached  by  the 
Lord's  sent  servants;  neither  durst  I  refuse  to  give  them 
entertainment,  if  it  lies  in  my  power."  His  superior  told  him 
angrily  that  he  was  playing  the  fool;  but,  because  he  had 
cherished  a  great  respect  for  his  father,  he  would  not,  he  said, 
put  him  off  the  estate  immediately  ;  he  should  have  until  next 
term-day    to   betliink    himself.     So   the   recusant,   with    two 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  GEORGE  BRYSSON     351 

others  who  held  his  uncompliant  creed,  was  packed  to  the 
door,  and  "escaped  that  snare."  And  he  notes  it  as  a 
memorable  providence  that,  ere  the  term-day  dawned,  Sir 
Kobert  Preston  was  dead ;  it  was  the  laird  and  not  the  tenant 
who  had  been  forced  to  quit  the  green  fields  of  Goursnout  and 
the  barony  of  Craigmillar. 

As  years  went  on,  there  was  little  rest  for  the  determined 
Covenanter.  He  had  been  in  more  than  one  skirmish  with 
the  dragoons  before  Bothwell ;  and,  on  that  day  of  dule,  he 
fought  in  the  beaten  army.  When  the  prisoners  had  been 
marched  to  Edinburgh,  the  search  after  those  who,  like 
Brysson,  were  neither  killed  nor  captured,  was  diligent  and 
tireless.  From  one  concealment  to  another  he  had  to  flee, 
making  his  way  gradually  back  to  the  familiar  homestead. 
Sometimes  he  slept  in  the  wood  beside  the  house,  sometimes 
under  the  ripening  corn ;  sometimes  he  would  venture  for  a 
night  into  his  own  bed.  He  had  friends  in  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy.  To  his  own  praise,  and  to  the  honour  of  foes  as 
humane  as  Saladin  with  the  Crusaders,  he  records  how  two  of 
the  proprietors  of  the  district,  one  of  them  being  Sir  William 
Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  the  son  of  the  poet,  never  wearied 
aiding  his  sister  in  the  farm,  during  the  weeks  when  he  lay 
in  hiding.  They  fed  her  sheep  and  cows  with  their  own. 
They  bade  her  gather  everything  of  value  in  the  house  and 
send  it  to  their  mansions,  where  it  was  kept  from  the  covetous 
greed  of  the  soldiers.  It  is  a  little  bit  of  knightliness  and 
courtesy,  which  breaks  like  a  shaft  of  gold  through  the 
prevailing  clouds,  and  which  it  heartens  us  to  remember. 

But,  although  these  generous  opponents,  and  other  helpers 
too,  were  his  advocates,  George  Brysson  ran  perilous  risks  so 
long  as  lie  lingered  near  the  Midlothian  home.  The  place 
was  attacked  one  night  by  a  party  of  infantry,  and  it  was  by 
a  sort  of  miracle  that  he  contrived  to  get  safely  away.  He 
felt  that,  until  happier  days  came,  he  must  turn  his  back  on 
Scotland.  For  a  while  he  sheltered  himself  in  the  big  world 
of  London.  But  the  air  of  the  town  harmed  his  health  ;  and 
the  emissaries  of  the  Government  were  still  in  pursuit  of  the 
fugitive.     At  length  he  found  an  asylum  in  a  curious  quarter 


352  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

— iu  the  family  of  an  English  gentleman  who  was  a  thorough- 
going Eoyalist.     The  good  man,  who  had  been  almost  killed 
for  his  fidelity  to  the  Stuarts  when  the  Commonwealth  was 
supreme,  was  now  more  than  seventy,  and  so  deaf  that  he 
could  not  catch  a  "single  word  spoken  by  those  about  him.     He 
had  a  wife  as  devoted  to  the  Whigs  as  he  was  to  the  Tories. 
She  filled  his  house  with  servants  whose  principles,  had  he 
known  what  they  were,  would  have  driven  him  to  distraction 
— poor  dissenters  worried  by  rulers  who  did  not  understand 
the  first  elements  of  toleration.     The   exiled   Scot  was  one. 
He  became  the  cavalier's  personal  attendant ;  and  we  see  the 
stiff  Presbyterian  in  the  disguise  of  a  courtier,  "  mounted  all 
new  "  and  decorated  with  "  a  fine  walking  sword."     His  security 
lay,  of  course,  in  his  lord's  deafness ;   for,  although  the  two 
conversed  by  signs,  the  problems  of  faith  and  Church  were  too 
recondite   for   so  circuitous  a   mode   of   discussion.     Brysson 
began  to  "  build  a  paradise  "  to  himself ;  and  the  months  when 
he  was  hunted  like  a  partridge  looked   far  enough   distant. 
But  there  was  a  sudden  awakening.     His  master  and  he  were 
cited    before   the   Justices,   to   swear   some   new   oath.     The 
convinced  Presbyter  had  no  liberty  to  perjure  his  soul ;  and, 
although  the  astonished  gentleman  persuaded  the  magistrates 
to  postpone  their  verdict  to  a  later  day,  the  secret  was  out, 
and  his  servant  had  to  be  sent  off  at  once  in  order  to  avoid 
seizure  and  punishment.     Again  the  wandering  bird  managed 
to  wing  its  flight  from  the  lure  up  into  the  freedom  of  the 
skies. 

And  now  we  enter  a  section  of  George  Brysson's  life  which 
links  him  with  public  history.  Here  and  there  we  have  had 
glimpses  of  the  Earl  of  Argyll,  son  of  the  great  Marquis.  We 
have  seen  liow  he  strove  to  reconcile  his  religion  with  his 
loyalty  to  his  prince,  but  how  he  could  not  take  the  piebald 
Test,  and  was  imprisoned,  and  would  have  suffered  death,  if 
his  stepdaughter  had  not  piloted  him  past  the  sentinels  on 
the  Castle  Hill.  Chaperoned  by  William  Veitch,  one  of  his 
ministerial  friends,  and  concealed  under  the  assumed  name  of 
"  Mr,  Hope,"  he  travelled  to  London  by  roads  which  were  com- 
paratively unfrequented.     Soon  he  crossed  to   Holland,  that 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  GEORGE  BRYSSON     353 

kindly  retreat  of  persecuted  men ;  and  there,  in  coujuuctioii 
with  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  he  was  now  organising  an 
expedition  against  Popish  King  James.  To  him  and  to  his 
company  Brysson  resolved  to  go.  He  and  a  friend.  Major 
Henderson,  had  much  difficulty  in  eluding  the  watchfulness  of 
officials  who,  in  these  weeks  of  rumour  and  suspicion,  kept  a 
vigilant  eye  on  ships  bound  for  Dutch  harbours.  But  they  chose 
the  King's  Coronation  Day,  when  everybody  was  engrossed  with 
the  shows  and  sports  :  and  at  Gravesend  no  one  questioned 
them,  and  so,  with  a  very  fair  wind,  they  sailed  for  Amsterdam, 
where  in  due  time  they  had  the  heartiest  of  welcomes. 

But  nothing  except  sorrow  was  allotted  those  who  shared 
in  the  ill-starred  enterprise  of  Argyll.     The  next  two  months 
in  George  Brysson's  life  were  spent  in  weariness  and  painfulness, 
in  watchings  often,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastiiigs  often,  in 
cold  and  nakedness.     With  three   good  ships — the  Anna,  the 
Sophia,  and  the  David — loaded  with  arms  and  ammunition  and 
all  the  necessaries  of  war,  the  Earl  and  his  three  hundred  men 
sailed  for  Scotland.     It  was  the  end  of  April  in  1685.     But, 
although  the  passage  was  quick  and  easy,  they  had  steered  too 
much  to  the  north,  and,  instead  of  sighting  the  mainland,  they 
found  themselves  off  the  crags  and  skerries  of  Orkney.    And 
now  their  troubles  began.     Two  of  their  number,  whom  they 
put  on  shore   to   glean   what   information   they  could,   were 
speedily  apprehended  by  the  King's  officers.     Eound  the  coasts 
they   went,   past    Cape   Wrath    and    the   Hebrides,   towards 
Argyll's  territory  in  the  west.     In  an  old  fortalice  there  which 
they  strengthened  and  equipped,  the  tower  of  Eilean  Dearg,  they 
stored  their  arms  and  provisions.     But  an  English  man-of-war 
was  watching  them ;  and,  when  they  were  absent  in  pursuit  of 
Atholl   and   his  Highlanders,  the  little  magazine   was   rifled 
and  its  contents  were  lost.     It  was   a  shattering   blow,   and 
they    never  rallied   from   the    disappointment.     There   were 
marchings  and  counter-marchings,  crossings  of  Loch  Long  and 
the   Gareloch,   debates   among   the   officers,  perplexities   and 
privations  and  sleepless  nights  for  the  men.     The  expedition 
was  doomed.     It  failed  to  attract  to  its  ranks  the  reinforce- 
ments which  were  needed.     It  was  not  guided  with  wisdom 
23 


354  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

and  certitude.  Sometimes  Sir  Patrick  Hume  and  Sir  John 
Cochrane  would  commend  one  course  of  action,  whilst  Argyll, 
gallant  and  kindly  and  candid,  but  impetuous  and  opinionative, 
had  set  his  heart  on  another:  they  overruled  his  wish  to 
engage  the  Koyalists  in  a  decisive  struggle,  and,  again,  his 
scheme  of  marching  rapidly  on  Glasgow.  In  the  middle  of 
June  the  crisis  came.  Early  on  Thursday  morning,  the  18th, 
Sir  Patrick,  with  five  hundred  tired  and  discouraged  followers, 
entered  the  village  of  Kilpatrick ;  and,  having  eaten  a  morsel 
of  bread  and  drunk  hurriedly  a  cup  of  ale,  he  went  in  quest  of 
his  commander,  the  Earl.  But,  instead,  he  met  Sir  John,  who 
grasped  his  hand,  and  turned  him  round,  and  said  earnestly, 
"  My  heart,  go  you  with  me."  "  Go  whither  ? "  asked  Sir  Patrick. 
"  Over  the  Clyde  by  boat,"  the  other  replied.  "  But  where  is 
Argyll  ? "  Hume  queried,  "  for  I  must  see  him  first."  "  You 
cannot  see  him,"  Cochrane  said ;  "  he  is  gone  away  to  his 
own  country."  The  night  before,  on  Sir  John's  advice,  the 
Earl  had  started  for  a  friend's  house  in  Glasgow,  and  the 
army  of  which  he  was  the  General  was  helplessly  broken  into 
two.  The  calamitous  issue  of  the  luckless  venture  was  in 
sight. 

On  Argyll  himself  the  catastrophe  fell  within  a  few  days. 
Clothed  in  the  dress  of  a  peasant,  he  attempted  to  make  his 
escape  on  a  pony.  At  Inchinnan,  near  Paisley,  in  the  grey  of 
the  evening,  he  was  observed  by  two  servants  of  Sir  John 
Shaw  of  Greenock,  who  were  driving  in  front  of  them  a  saddle- 
horse.  Their  beast  was  worn  with  long  travel,  and  they 
summoned  him  to  surrender  to  them  his  own  fresher  animal. 
He  refused,  and  a  quarrel  ensued ;  and  then,  from  one  of  the 
cottages,  a  weaver,  angered  by  the  noise,  came  out,  and,  not 
dreaming  whom  he  assailed,  struck  the  nobleman  on  the  head 
with  a  rusty  broadsword.  Stunned  by  the  blow,  he  tottered 
to  the  ground,  and  betrayed  himself  by  an  involuntary  cry — 
"  Unfortunate  Argyll ! "  They  made  him  their  prisoner  ;  and 
very  soon  he  was  lodged,  this  time  not  to  elude  his  captors, 
within  the  strong  walls  of  Edinburgh  Castle. 

He  left  the  world  with  the  same  tranquil  bravery  which 
had  illumined  the  last  hours  of  his  father.     The  old  sentence, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  GEORGE  BRYSSON      355 

passed  upon  him  for  seeking  to  qualify  the  Test  of  1681,  was 
revived ;  since  its  imposition  he  had  been  legally  dead,  and  no 
charge  of  treason  was  preferred  against  him  now  because  of 
his  invasion  of  the  realm.  His  final  day,  the  30th  of  June, 
was  the  best  of  all  his  days.  To  one  of  his  stepdaughters,  the 
Lady  Henrietta  Campbell,  he  said  in  the  morning,  "  We  must 
not  part  like  those  not  to  meet  again  " ;  to  the'  other,  the  Lady 
Sophia,  who  so  fearlessly  had  rescued  him  in  his  former  strait, 
he  wrote  a  little  letter  which  breathes  the  perfume  of  calm : 
"  What  shall  I  say  in  this  great  day  of  the  Lord,  wherein,  in 
the  midst  of  a  cloud,  I  find  a  fair  sunshine  ?  I  can  wish  no 
more  for  you  but  that  the  Lord  may  comfort  you  and  shine 
upon  you  as  He  doth  upon  me,  and  give  you  the  same  sense  of 
His  love  in  staying  in  the  world  as  I  have  in  going  out  of  it." 
How  he  dined  with  appetite,  and  conversed  with  gaiety  at  the 
table,  and  then  lay  down  to  take  a  short  slumber,  in  order 
that  his  body  and  mind  might  be  in  full  vigour  when  he 
should  mount  the  scaffold,  is  known  to  every  admirer  of 
Ward's  famous  picture  and  to  every  reader  of  Macaulay's  vivid 
pages.  "  At  this  time  one  of  the  Lords  of  the  Council,  who 
had  probably  been  bred  a  Presbyterian,  and  had  been  seduced 
by  interest  to  join  in  oppressing  the  Church  of  which  he  had 
once  been  a  member,  came  to  the  Castle  with  a  message  from 
his  brethren,  and  demanded  admittance  to  the  Earl.  It  was 
answered  that  the  Earl  was  asleep.  The  Privy  Councillor 
thought  that  this  was  a  subterfuge,  and  insisted  on  entering. 
The  door  of  the  cell  was  softly  opened,  and  there  lay  Argyll 
on  the  bed,  sleeping  in  his  irons  the  placid  sleep  of  infancy. 
The  conscience  of  the  renegade  smote  him.  He  turned  away 
sick  at  heart,  ran  out  of  the  Castle,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
dwelling  of  a  lady  of  his  family  who  lived  hard  by.  There 
he  gave  himself  up  to  an  agony  of  remorse  and  shame.  'I 
have  been,'  he  said,  '  in  Argyll's  prison.  I  have  seen  him, 
within  an  hour  of  eternity,  sleeping  as  sweetly  as  ever  man 
did.'"  He  awoke  to  go  to  the  place  of  execution.  There, 
falling  on  his  knees,  he  embraced  the  Maiden,  the  guillotine 
which  was  to  close  his  earthly  life,  protesting  that  it  was  the 
winsomest  maiden  ever  he  had  kissed,  "it  being  a  mean  to 


356  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

finish  his  sin  and  misery,  and  his  inlet  to  the  glory  for 
which  he  longed."  Then,  when  he  had  prayed,  he  gave  the 
sign  to  the  headsman ;  and  immediately  all  was  over. 
"  Thus  fell,"  wrote  Lord  Fountainhall,  "  that  tall  and  mighty 
cedar  iu  our  Lebanon"  —  the  impersonation,  as  a  later 
historian  has  said,  at  once  of  feudal  power  and  of  freedom- 
loving  Protestantism. 

We  have  forgotten  George  Brysson  in  following  the  dis- 
tresses and  the  joys  of  his  leader.  He  stayed  behind  with 
Sir  John  Cochrane  when  Argyll  had  left  the  camp — stayed 
to  encounter  new  excitements  and  perils.  Against  a  troop 
of  cavalry  and  two  troops  of  militia  those  devoted  Whigs,  ex- 
hausted though  they  were,  fought  a  hot  skirmish  at  Muirdykes, 
and  came  forth  from  it  unbeaten.  From  within  "  an  old  stone- 
fold,  which  was  a  little  defence  to  us,"  the  enemy  was  riddled 
with  a  furious  musketry-fire,  first  on  the  right  hand  and  then 
on  the  left ;  and,  in  the  end.  Lord  Eoss  was  glad  to  give  over, 
and  to  withdraw  his  men  from  the  dyke  that  helped  the 
Covenanters  so  effectively.  When  they  had  retreated  to  a 
certain  distance,  though  still  they  circled  the  fold  round  as  in 
a  ring,  Sir  John  Cochrane  bade  his  sharpshooters  bless  God  for 
their  marvellous  preservation.  He  took  a  book,  and  sang  the 
46th  Psalm  throughout,  and  after  that  prayed  pertinently,  the 
warriors  behind  the  bield  of  the  wall  holding  themselves  in  a 
watchful  posture  while  they  knelt  to  praise  the  Lord  of  battles. 
They  were  not  troubled  again  by  those  whom  their  captain 
called  derisively  "  the  cowardly  rogues  " ;  and  in  a  day  or  two, 
having  heard  the  news  of  Argyll's  seizure,  they  parted  one 
from  another. 

In  what  direction  was  Brysson  to  turn  his  footsteps  now  ? 
With  three  lads  who  came  from  London,  he  decided  to 
journey  south  and  to  join  the  Duke  of  Monmouth — 
Monmouth,  whose  own  rainbow-coloured  bubble  was  in  the 
next  month  to  be  dissipated  as  completely  as  the  hopes  of  the 
Scottish  conspirators  had  just  been.  But  the  four  wayfarers, 
"  travelling  all  night  and  derning  all  day,"  did  not  require 
to  make  the  long  and  bootless  pilgrimage.  On  a  Sabbath 
morning,  when  they  could  perceive  neither  wood  nor  moss  in 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  GEORGE  BRYSSON     357 

which  to  screen  themselves,  one  of  them  went  up  to  a  house 
near  by,  and  confessed  frankly  who  they  were.  They  had 
difficulty  in  persuading  the  inmates  to  believe  their  tale ;  but, 
once  it  was  credited,  they  were  graciously  received :  for  they 
had  fallen  among  Cameronians,  who,  if  they  were  not  disposed 
to  enlist  under  the  standard  of  Argyll,  yet  wished  him  well. 
There  was  a  brave  fire  burning  on  the  hearth,  and  the  weary 
men  sat  down  and  warmed  themselves.  They  had  plenty  of 
meat  given  them ;  and,  once  their  hunger  was  appeased,  lest 
King  James's  dragoons  should  discover  their  place  of  hiding, 
the  daughter  of  the  home  carried  straw  out  to  "  an  old  torn 
house  "  where  the  sheep  were  accustomed  to  rest,  and  there 
they  "slept  as  sound  as  ever  they  did  upon  a  feather-bed." 
Their  generous  hosts  would  not  permit  them  to  face  the 
hazards  involved  in  pushing  on  towards  the  English  border. 
They  must  remain,  they  said,  in  their  fellowship.  And  so,  for 
some  weeks,  they  did,  not  indeed  always  with  a  roof  to  cover 
their  heads,  but  often  lying  in  the  fields,  scarcely  knowing  at 
night  where  they  might  be  on  the  morrow,  and  yet  through 
it  all  never  tasting  anything  but  liberal  love  from  brothers 
and  sisters  who  had  tears  and  temptations  as  many  as  their 
own. 

Then  the  pursuit  slackened  a  little,  and  George  Brysson 
crept  across  the  country  to  the  Midlothian  farmstead  he  re- 
membered so  loyally.  Six  months  afterwards — for  he  was  still 
a  marked  and  persecuted  man — he  stole  away  to  Northumber- 
land. At  Berwick,  in  the  service  of  Justice  Grieve,  he  lived 
for  five  quiet  years,  until  "the  happy  Kevolution"  was  an 
accomplished  fact,  and  he  could  return  to  Edinburgh,  to  build 
up  the  business  of  a  thriving  merchant,  to  marry  that  "  godly 
wife  who  was  a  true  yokefellow  indeed,"  and,  when  age  was 
silvering  his  hair,  to  write  his  Memoirs.  Four  of  his  nine 
pleasant  children,  with  their  mother,  were  in  glory  ere  he 
took  his  pen  in  hand,  and  the  live  who  were  left  were  very 
comfortable  to  him.  He  desired  them  to  read  what  wonderful 
care  the  Lord  had  lavished  on  their  father,  in  the  various  steps 
of  His  providence :  surely  the  record  would  encourage  them  to 
cleave  to  so  good  a  Master.     As  for  himself,  he  blessed  his 


358  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Guide,  who  had  followed  him  with  mercy  all  his  days ;  and 
he  hoped  erelong  to  be  in  that  inheritance  where  there 
is  not  a  complaint  amongst  the  redeemed  company — not  a 
complaint,  but  only  the  river  of  pleasure  and  the  joy  for 
evermore. 


CHAPTER   XXXIIL 

THOSE  WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL. 

rnHE  women  that  publish  the  tidings  are  a  great  host :  it  is 
JL  the  tribute  of  an  Old  Testament  psalm  to  the  holy 
enthusiasm  which  throbbed  in  the  hearts  and  announced 
itself  from  the  lips  of  the  daughters  of  Israel.  In  the  camp  of 
the  Scottish  Covenant  that  ancient  enthusiasm  had  its  parallel 
and  repetition.  Already,  in  these  chapters,  we  have  had 
momentary  visions  of  various  queenly  figures.  With  a  forti- 
tude as  manifest  as  that  of  their  fathers  and  husbands  and 
sons,  we  have  seen  the  matron  and  the  maid  going  out 
behind  the  banners  of  the  Son  of  God  and  performing  their 
part  in  His  battle.  But  others  in  the  sisterhood  of  valour 
and  religion  deserve  to  be  recalled  by  us.  The  literature 
of  seventeenth-century  Presbytery,  strenuous,  argumentative, 
stained  with  blood,  is  beautified  by  its  Legend  of  Good 
Women. 

Isabel  Alison  and  Marion  Harvie,  each  a  little  older  than 
Margaret  Wilson,  were  called  to  walk  the  road  of  death  and 
gain,  four  years  before  the  opportunity  came  to  her  of  thread- 
ing "  the  sombre  boskage  of  the  wood  toward  the  morning 
star."  They  suffered  in  the  Grassmarket  on  the  26th  of 
January  1681.  One  of  them  was  a  maidservant  from  Bo'ness, 
the  other  had  "  lived  very  privately  in  the  town  of  Perth  " ;  but 
their  testimonies  before  the  Council  and  on  the  scaffold  were 
uncompromising,  like  those  of  the  Lion  of  the  Covenant 
himself.  They  were  Cameronians,  who  could  give  a  reason 
for  the  resolute  creed  which  they  avowed.  They  owned  the 
Excommunication   at   the    Tor  wood,   and    the   papers   found 

359 


36o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

at  the  Queensferry,  and  the  Sanquhar  Declaration.  They 
declined  the  authority  of  the  rulers  at  whose  bar  they  stood, 
telling  them  that  they  had  declared  war  against  Christ,  and 
had  usurped  and  taken  His  prerogatives,  and  so  were  carrying 
the  sword  against  Him  and  not  for  Him.  They  died,  they 
claimed,  not  as  fools,  nor  as  evil-doers,  nor  as  busybodies  in 
other  men's  matters — no,  but  for  adhering  to  the  truths  of 
Jesus,  and  for  confessing  Him  to  be  King  in  Zion.  On  the 
heads  of  their  enemies  they  left  the  guilt  of  their  blood- 
shedding.  It  has  a  revengeful  sound;  but  probably  it  was 
only  their  solemn  warning  addressed  to  those  who  had 
travelled  as  far  as  tyrants  can  go  in  unrighteousness  and 
oppression.  There  is  a  proud  ring,  an  accent  of  finality,  a 
note  of  immovable  conviction,  in  every  answer  they  gave  and 
every  sentence  they  spoke.  To  Marion  Harvie  the  Councillors 
said  that  "  a  rock,  the  cod,  and  boboons  " — a  distaff  and  a  pin- 
cushion and  a  bobbin  of  thread — would  befit  her  better  than 
such  high  theological  and  ecclesiastical  discourse.  But,  while 
her  fingers  were  familiar  with  the  homely  implements,  she 
knew  no  cause  why  her  heart  and  brain  should  not  move 
among  more  transcendent  things.  She  had  a  personal  and 
powerful  motive  for  that  faith  which  she  professed  with  an 
emphasis  so  assured.  As  she  climbed  the  ladder  to  surrender 
her  life,  she  narrated  a  fragment  of  her  autobiography.  "  At 
fourteen  or  fifteen  I  was  a  hearer  of  the  curates  and  the  in- 
dulged ;  and,  while  I  was  a  hearer  of  these,  I  was  a  blasphemer 
and  Sabbath-breaker,  and  a  chapter  of  the  Bible  was  a  burden 
to  me.  But,  since  I  heard  this  persecuted  Gospel,  I  durst  not 
blaspheme  nor  break  the  Sabbath,  and  the  Bible  became  my 
delight."  That  it  had  regenerated  her  own  experience  was 
proof  sufficient  that  the  Evangel  she  loved  must  be  the 
authentic  Word  of  God. 

Their  unyieldingness  and  adamantine  quality  are  the 
memories  we  bring  away  from  our  converse  with  these  "  two 
honest,  worthy  lasses,"  Marion  Harvie  and  Isabel  Alison.  "  0, 
be  zealous,  sirs  !  be  zealous !  be  zealous  ! "  the  latter  cried  from 
the  eminence  of  the  scaffold ;  and  zeal  was  the  attribute 
characteristic  of  their  firm-set   souls.     To   both    of   them    in 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL     361 

their  prison  the  judges  sent  Mr.  Archibald  Eiddell,  a  Cove- 
nanting minister  and  a  good  man,  who  had  his  trials  still  to 
face  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  but  who  had  blurred  and 
enfeebled  his  message  in  the  eyes  of  all  Cameronians  by 
accepting  the  Indulgence.  He  was  to  persuade  them  to 
conform ;  but  he  might  as  successfully  have  tried  to  soften 
into  velvet  and  silk  tlie  brute  mass  of  the  Castle  Rock.  "  He 
offered  to  pray.  We  said  we  were  not  clear  to  join  with  him 
in  prayer.  He  said,  '  Wherefore  ? '  We  said,  '  We  know  the 
strain  of  your  prayers  will  be  like  your  discourse.'  He  said, '  I 
shall  not  mention  any  of  your  principles  in  my  prayer,  but 
only  desire  the  Lord  to  let  you  see  the  evil  of  your  doings.' 
We  told  him  we  desired  none  of  his  prayers  at  all.  The 
goodmau  of  the  Tolbooth  and  some  of  the  gentlemen  said, 
would  we  not  be  content  to  hear  him  ?  We  said,  '  Forced 
prayers  have  no  virtue.' "  Their  flag  flew  as  boldly  on  the 
morning  of  their  execution.  Led  for  the  last  time  into  the 
Council  Chamber,  they  were  taunted  by  Bishop  Paterson, 
who  had  none  of  Leighton's  compassionateness  and  grace, 
"  Marion,  ye  said  you  would  never  hear  a  curate ;  now  you 
shall  be  forced  to  hear  one " ;  and  he  commanded  one  of  his 
suffragans  to  pray.  But  he  was  outwitted.  "  Come,  Isabel," 
exclaimed  the  unconquerable  serving  -  maid,  "  let  us  sing 
the  23rd  Psalm."  Line  by  line  she  repeated  the  calming 
and  uplifting  words  which  Scottish  children  are  taught  so 
soon  as  they  can  lisp  their  syllables ;  and  line  by  line  these 
two,  who  were  appointed  to  death,  sang  of  the  Lord  their 
Shepherd,  and  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  where  His 
rod  and  His  staff  sustained  them,  and  of  God's  House  in 
which,  for  evermore,  their  dwelling-place  should  be.  And  not 
a  petition  of  the  curate's  prayer  was  heard. 

Amongst  all  Shakespeare's  women  there  is  none  auguster, 
none  more  heroic,  than  Portia — the  Portia  of  Julius  Ccesar  and 
not  of  Tlic  Merchant  of  Venice.  Cato's  daughter  and  the  spouse 
of  Brutus,  she  is  as  stoical  as  her  husband.  Professor  Dowden 
points  out  that  we  read  of  no  embrace,  no  touch  of  hands  or 
lips,  between  this  noble  wife  and  her  lord ;  but  we  know  that 
their  souls   have  met,   that   they    are    inseparably   one   and 


362  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

absolutely  equal.  His  aims,  his  theories  of  justice,  his 
consistent  devotion  to  his  republicanism,  are  hers  as  well. 
Something  of  the  tenacity,  the  pure  idealism,  the  lofty  stern- 
ness of  the  Eoman  matron,  lived  again  in  the  humble 
Scotswomen. 

But  they  were  happier  than  she.  Diviner  consolations 
upheld  them  in  dying.  They  were  executed  with  "  some  three 
or  four  wicked  women,  guilty  of  murdering  their  own  children  " ; 
no  possible  insult  was  spared  them.  But  they  soared  heaven- 
ward, as  the  larks  soar,  still  singing  a  song  instinct  with 
certainty  and  gladness.  "  I  have  looked  greedy-like  to  such 
a  lot  as  this,  but  still  I  thought  it  was  too  high  for  me," 
said  Isabel  Alison.  "  0  my  Fair  One,  my  Lovely  One,  come 
away ! "  cried  Marion  Harvie,  for  she  was  enraptured  with 
the  beauty  of  the  celestial  Bridegroom.  Together  they  raised 
their  voices  in  the  verses  of  the  84th  Psalm ;  and  thus  they 
took  their  flight  to  the  Lord  God  who  is  a  Sun  and  a 
Shield. 

The  lady  in  whose  fellowship  we  move  next  was  separated 
from  these  two  by  many  sundering  lines.  She  was  great  and 
stately.  That  she  was  no  member  of  the  Cameronian  family 
is  demonstrated  by  the  fact  that  the  husband  of  her  youth 
breathed  his  last  in  exile  because  of  his  fealty  to  the  Stuarts, 
and  by  the  other  fact  that  her  son  led  King  James's  forlorn 
hope  side  by  side  with  John  Graham  of  Claverhouse.  Nor  was 
it  her  heritage  to  die  young  and  in  the  Grassmarket ;  she 
lived  until  her  years  were  well-nigh  ninety,  and  passed  from 
the  earth  in  the  quietude  of  her  own  room.  But  her  sorrows 
were  deeper  in  reality  than  those  tasted  by  the  girlish  martyrs  ; 
and  her  religion,  if  it  was  roomier  and  more  forbearing, 
was  identical  with  theirs  in  its  essence.  Anna  Mackenzie 
of  Seaforth,  Lady  Balcarres,  and  afterwards  Countess  of 
Argyll,  is  a  princess  not  of  the  Covenant  alone  but  of  that 
wider  realm  in  which  all  love-worthy  and  saintly  women 
dwell. 

She  was  Sir  Robert  Moray's  sister-in-law  and  friend ;  his 
"  dear  Cummer,"  lie  delights  to  name  her  in  the  familiarity  of 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL    363 

his  letters.  Abraham  Cowley  extolled  her  worth  no  less  than 
that  of  the  husband  whom  she  lost  in  Holland — 

Unfortunate  for  ever  let  nie  be, 
If  I  believe  that  such  was  he 
Whom,  in  the  storms  of  bad  success, 
And  all  that  error  calls  unhappiness, 
His  virtue,  and  his  virtuous  wife,  did  still .  accompany ! 

Richard  Baxter  was  unstinted  in  gratitude  and  praise.  "  She 
is,"  he  said,  "of  a  solid  understanding  in  religion,  and  of 
prudence  much  more  than  ordinary,  and  of  great  integrity 
and  constancy,  and  a  great  hater  of  hypocrisy,  and  faithful  to 
Christ  in  an  unfaithful  world."  They  are  certificates  to  be 
envied  ;  but  not  one  of  them  contains  a  word  which  transgresses 
the  boundaries  of  simple  verity. 

We  shall  learn  something  of  Lady  Anna  Mackenzie's 
goodness  if  we  join  her  at  Breda,  in  one  of  the  saddest  weeks 
of  her  life,  the  closing  week  of  August  in  1659.  That  "  brave 
and  able  gentleman,"  Alexander  Lindsay,  the  Earl  of  Balcarres, 
the  husband  to  whom  she  had  given  herself  nineteen  years 
before,  was  dying.  "  The  last  eight  days  of  that  dear  life," 
she  wrote  to  her  cousin,  Colonel  Henderson,  "  I  may  say  his 
dear  heart  was  always  in  heaven,  for  he  was  almost  always 
praying  or  hearing  prayer,  or  reading,  or  speaking  to  the 
praise  of  his  blessed  Maker  and  Redeemer."  ..."  Upon  the 
Saturday's  night,  he  and  I  talking  togeder  alone,  he  said  to 
me  that  there  was  many  divines  of  the  opinion  that  all  who 
belonged  to  God,  less  or  more,  found  that  which  Saint  Paul 
speaks  of  in  the  eighth  of  the  Romans — of  the  spirit  of 
bondage  :  he  said,  he  could  not  say  that  ever  he  found  it  in  all 
his  life.  I  remembered  him  what  I  had  heard  our  minister, 
who  is  a  most  excellent  man,  say  upon  that  text,  that  all  had 
it  less  or  more,  but  God,  when  He  wounded  some  with  the 
sight  of  their  lost  condition  without  Christ,  applied  the  plaister 
so  soon  to  the  person  wounded  that  the  wound  was  not  at  all 
sensible,  and  he  was  sure  there  was  many  in  heaven  that  never 
could  say  they  felt  the  spirit  of  bondage."  ..."  I  sat  always 
upon  the  carpet  before  his  bedside,  and  often  T  looked  up  to 
him,  and,  when    I  found  not  his  eyes  fixed  upon  heaven,  I 


364  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

spake  to  him.  Upon  the  Lord's  day  I  asked  him  what  he  was 
doing,  and  said,  '  My  love,  have  you  attained  to  that  great 
measure  of  assurance  that  you  desire  ? '  To  which  he  answered, 
'  I  cannot  tell  what  they  call  full  assurance ;  but  this  I  can 
tell  you,  that  I  am  as  full  of  joy  in  believing  that  my  Eedeemer 
is  mine  and  I  am  His  as  I  can  hold,  and  that  I  sliall  be  with 
Him  before  it  be  long,  and  that  He  will  never  leave  me.' 
'  That's  good  news,  my  dear,'  said  I,  '  for  you.'  '  Aye,'  said  he, 
'  and  for  you  also ;  for  you  will  quickly  follow  me.'  '  Aye,  my 
dear,'  said  I, '  you  will  not  think  it  long ;  for  a  thousand  years 
where  you  are  going  is  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is  past.' "... 
"  At  last  I  closed  those  dear  eyes,  and  that  dear  mouth  I  never 
in  all  my  life  heard  make  a  lie  or  take  the  name  of  God  in 
vain.  0,  how  Christianly  that  dear  saint  of  mine  lived  and 
died  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  tell  to  you  as  it  was ! " 
And,  as  we  read,  we  feel  that  it  is  impossible  to  tell  what 
abounding  comforts  Lord  Balcarres,  Eoyalist  and  Presbyterian 
and  blameless  captive  of  the  King  of  kings,  drew,  living 
and  dying,  from  the  communion  of  his  great  -  hearted 
wife. 

As  a  mother,  she  demeaned  herself  in  the  same  shining 
fashion.  One  grief,  which  came  soon  after  her  husband's  death, 
was  the  conversion  to  Koman  Catholicism  of  their  eldest  child, 
the  Lady  Anna  Lindsay,  a  girl  scarcely  more  than  sixteen,  to 
whose  faith  the  Jesuits  about  Charles's  continental  court  had 
laid  too  effectual  a  siege.  Over  in  the  Fifeshire  home,  another 
sharp-edged  trial  smote  her  in  October  1662.  Her  boy  Charles, 
the  young  Earl,  just  twelve  years  old,  was  summoned  after  a 
short  illness  from  this  world  to  that  which  is  unseen  and 
eternal :  "  upon  Wednesday  morning,  at  six  o'clock,  after  a 
quiet  night's  rest,  in  a  moment  he  found  all  his  strength  and 
spirits  decay  togeder,  and  called  to  me,  and  threw  his  arms 
about  my  neck,  and  prayed  God  to  '  bless  his  dear  lady  mother,' 
and  then  he  looked  up  and  desired  that  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  would  clean  him  of  all  his  sins,  and  that  God  would  take 
him  to  be  for  ever  with  Himself,  which  He  immediately  did." 
Two  daughters  were  left  to  her,  Sophia  and  Henrietta,  and  a 
son,  Colin,  afterwards  to  toil  and  fight  so  chivalrously  in  the 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL     365 

lost  cause  of  the  Stuarts.  To  him,  when  he  was  on  the  verge 
of  manhood,  she  addressed  a  letter  which  is  perfect  in  its 
thought  and  style  and  as  perfect  in  its  spiritual  dignity.  She 
bade  him,  first  of  all,  dedicate  some  certain  time  every  day  to 
the  service  of  his  Saviour.  To  his  prince  she  inculcated  loyalty 
and  reverence ;  to  his  country,  love  and  protection ;  to  his 
friend,  fidelity  and  patience  and  truth;  to. his  bride,  chastity 
and  tender  affection,  for,  "  believe  it,"  she  declared,  "  no  man 
is  happy  but  he  that  is  so  in  his  own  house."  She  would  have 
him  speak  little  and  be  silent  much ;  but  there  must  be  no 
reticence  when  he  saw  an  occasion  to  do  good  to  his  King,  his 
fatherland,  or  his  neighbour.  In  the  management  of  his  estate, 
she  counselled  him  to  take  an  hour  every  day  for  the  study  of 
the  affairs  of  the  charter-chest,  until  he  should  understand  each 
detail  for  himself.  "You,"  she  concluded,  "that  have  such 
a  closet " — that  is,  so  noble  a  library — "  such  gardens,  and  so 
much  to  do  within  doors  and  without,  need  not  think  the  time 
tedious  or  be  idle ;  it's  the  hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  rich." 
Did  not  Lady  Balcarres  mingle  the  strength  and  the  judgment 
of  a  father  with  a  mother's  soft  gentleness  and  pity  ? 

Just  before  this  letter  was  written,  her  history  had  under- 
gone an  important  change.  In  1670,  eleven  years  after  she 
had  been  parted  from  the  true  lover  and  captain  of  her  early 
life,  she  was  married  a  second  time,  to  the  Earl  of  Argyll — 
the  Earl  for  whom,  as  we  have  discovered,  the  headsman's  axe 
was  waiting  at  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh.  She  became  mistress 
of  Inverary  Castle,  although  perhaps  her  home  more  frequently 
was  in  Stirling,  in  that  "  Great  Lodging  or  Manor-place, 
lying  upon  the  north  side  of  the  High  Street,"  which  then  was 
a  favourite  residence  of  the  Argylls.  In  the  Manor-place  she 
had  her  own  sitting-room,  into  which  she  gathered  those 
pretty  articles  of  "  womanly  furniture  "  that  she  loved — three 
sweetwood  boxes,  two  little  statues  of  "  marable,"  two  crystal 
candlesticks,  two-and-twenty  counterfeit  porcelain  dishes,  a 
silver  ink-horn,  a  bell  of  bell-metal,  a  case  of  wooden  "tae- 
cups,"  and,  on  a  fir-table  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  her 
Cambridge  Bible,  in  two  large  volumes  in  folio,  with  Ogleby's 
cut8.     Many  of   these   heirlooms   had   to  be  sacrificed   at   a 


366  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

later  day,  that  money  raight  be  found  for  the  supply  of  her 
husband's  necessities  in  his  banishment.  And,  by  and  by, 
there  came  the  bitterer  parting  of  his  death.  "  Forgive  me 
all  my  faults,"  he  wrote  from  the  Laigh  Council  House,  "  and 
now  comfort  thyself  in  Him  in  whom  only  true  comfort  is  to 
be  found.  The  Lord  be  v/ith  thee,  and  bless  thee,  my  dearest !  " 
On  few  women  have  tlie  strokes  of  alliictiou  rained  more 
heavily,  and  few  have  borne  them  with  a  meeker  and  more 
trustful  spirit.  "  Though  I  live  in  a  continual  storm,"  she 
had  written  years  before  1685,  "the  gale  will  blow  at  last 
which  will  blow  me  into  the  haven." 

Twenty-one  summers  and  winters  were  still  to  pass  over 
her  whitened  hair  before  that  longed-for  gale  arose.  They  were 
full  of  excitement  and  change,  of  which  her  gallant  son.  Lord 
Colin,  had  his  ample  share ;  but,  season  after  season,  she 
carried  within  herself  the  chimes  of  an  unassailable  peace. 
At  last  the  hour  arrived  which  she  had  desired.  She  died  in 
the  old  home,  among  the  "  sunward-sloping  farms "  of  fair 
Balcarres ;  and  in  the  chapel  there  they  laid  her  body,  beside 
her  first  husband  a  id  tlie  young  Earl  Charles. 

On  a  former  page  reference  was  made  to  William  Veitch, 
the  minister  who  helped  Argyll  so  shrewdly  in  that  venture- 
some pilgrimage  to  London  which  followed  on  his  Grace's  very 
dramatic  outgoing  from  his  Scottish  dungeon.  Veitch  had  him- 
self a  biography  marked  by  a  hundred  vicissitudes  and  troubles. 
But  he  would  scarcely  have  played  the  man  as  cheerfully  as  he 
did,  if  he  had  not  been  mated  with  a  wife  whose  spiritual  stature 
was  taller  than  his  own.  In  most  of  his  struggles  and  flights  and 
hardships  she  participated;  and,  when  she  could  not  accom- 
pany him,  she  wrought  miracles  on  his  behalf  by  her  prayers. 
For  the  prayers  of  Marion  Veitch  were  of  the  resistless  kind 
which  carry  the  citadel  of  heaven  by  storm,  and  which  return 
to  our  earth  laden  with  the  bread  and  wine  and  wealth  of  God. 

How  she  bore  herself  when  her  lord  was  separated  from 
her,  when  the  children  were  young  and  unfit  to  do  for 
themselves,  and  when  she  was  far  from  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances, is   recounted  in  those  Memoirs  which  the  good 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL     367 

minister  left  behind  him.  Then  she  but  nestled  more  close 
to  the  almighty  Benefactor  in  the  skies.  He  should  be  the 
Husband,  and  He  should  be  the  farm ;  He  should  be  the 
stock  and  the  crop ;  He  should  be  the  Provider,  the  food,  and 
the  raiment,  the  Master  of  the  family  and  the  Father  of  the 
bairns.  "  Yea,  she  resolved  to  cleave  faster  unto  this  relation 
than  Ruth  did  to  Naomi,  for  that  wliich  parted  her  should 
bring  her  to  the  greatest  nearness,  most  inseparable  and  com- 
fortable communion  with  her  God.  Thus,  while  deep  called 
unto  deep,  she  held  by  her  compass."  And  what  can  van- 
quish a  spirit  of  this  calibre,  which  casts  its  burdens  one  by 
one  at  the  feet  of  the  King  its  Friend,  and  goes  its  arduous 
road  enlarged  and  glad  ?     What  wind  can  ruflle  its  profound 

tranquillity  ? 

It  may  blow  north,  it  still  is  warm  ; 
Or  south,  it  still  is  clear. 

With  such  souls  the  summer  lasts  the  whole  year  round. 

But  yet  better  than  her  husband's  Memoirs  is  her  own 
Diary,  which  she  intended  simply  for  her  children's  eyes,  and 
in  which  she  commemorated  her  divine  Lord's  "gracious 
dealing  with  her  and  His  remarkable  hearing  and  answering 
her  supplications."  When  the  innate  scepticism  which  dogs 
us  all  insinuates  that  it  is  a  foolish  vanity  to  kneel  and  pray, 
we  shall  act  most  wisely  if  we  let  Mrs.  Veitch  speak  to  us, 
and  if  we  pay  diligent  heed  to  her  victorious  reply.  She  is 
always  seeking  some  great  suit  from  God,  and  always  finding 
that  He  may  be  trusted  to  send  the  sufhcient  deliverance  and 
the  satisfying  treasure.  "  Eternal  life  to  me  and  mine  " — that 
is  her  request ;  and  He  helps  her  to  believe  that  He  is  able 
and  willing  to  grant  it,  "  as  Ahasuerus  was  the  life  of  Hester." 
That  He  will  return  in  His  glory  to  His  Church,  and 
especially  to  Scotland — that,  too,  is  her  entreaty  ;  and  she  has 
this  Scripture  given  her  in  response,  /  have  seen  his  ways,  a7id 
will  heal  him;  I  will  restore  comforts  unto  him  and  to  his 
mourners.  Perpetually  she  keeps  dipping  her  pitcher  down 
into  the  deep  well,  and  perpetually  she  draws  it  up  filled  to 
its  brim  with  the  waters  of  salvation ;  until,  after  she  has 
made  numberless  errands  to  the  spring,  and  has  been  nine  or 


368  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

ten  years  a  beggar  at  the  Father's  door,  she  concludes  that 
"  faith  and  love  have  never  an  ill  tale  to  tell  of  Him,"  and 
that  "  His  promises  can  neither  die  nor  drown." 

We  rejoice  to  know  that  both  Marion  Veitch  and  her 
husband  survived  the  Revolution,  and  at  long  length  found 
a  restful  home  for  themselves,  first  in  the  manse  at  Peebles 
and  then  in  that  of  Dumfries.  But  the  trials  which  tested 
her  with  most  severity,  compelling  her  to  grip  G-od's  right 
hand  more  clingingly  than  ever,  were  perhaps  those  which 
befell  in  this  Indian  summer  of  her  life. 

Two  of  her  sons  had  gone  to  America,  to  take  their  part 
in  the  hapless  scheme  of  colonising  the  Isthmus  of  Darien. 
They   brought   her   no    sorrow   through   any   misdoing;    her 
intercessions  for  the  children  of  her  house  had  been  crowned 
indeed  with  the  completest  recompense ;  but  now  one  of  these 
two,  her  firstborn,  returning  to  Scotland,  died  at  sea,  heart- 
broken with  the  toils  and  disappointments  of  the  expedition 
for  which  he  had  done  his  best.     At  first,  the  dark  and  the 
pain  in  the  mother's  breast  were  unrelieved  by  a  ray  of  light. 
"  I  had  never  such  a  combat  with  carnal  reason  and  misbelief. 
Christ  appeared  like  a  spirit  and  frightened  me,  as  He  did  the 
disciples."     But  in  her  strait  she  went  to  Him  who  had  not 
failed  her  yet,  and  soon  she  had  His  medicine  for  her  wound. 
"  Faith  told  me :  I  must  not  be  discouraged  at  the  death  of 
my  son,  for  Moses  and  Aaron  died  both  in  the  wilderness,  and 
Eachel  died  by  the  way,  and  the  saints  of  God  were  slain  and 
got  none  to  bury  them,  whereas  thy  son  got  a  winding-sheet 
and  a  chest  of  cedar-wood ;  and  this  may  be  a  comfort  to  thee, 
that  he  never  gave  thee  cause  to  have  a  sad  hour  for  his 
sinful  practices,  though  he  had  been  a  captain  of  soldiers  and 
with  the  King  abroad."     So  in  the  bare  ruined  choirs  Faith 
piped  her  hymn  of  cheer,  and  the  sufferer  listened  and  ceased 
to  despond. 

Even  yet  the  discipline  of  her  chastened  soul — pressed  on 
every  side,  yet  not  straitened ;  perplexed,  yet  not  unto  despair ; 
pursued,  yet  not  forsaken ;  smitten  down,  yet  not  destroyed — was 
not  altogether  finished.  Her  youngest  son,  her  Ebenezer,  just 
ordained  minister  at  Ayr,  sickened  in  Edinburgli,  where  he 


LADY    BALCAKRES. 


From  the  Portrait  in  Brahan  Castle,  reproduced  in  the  Earl  of  Cratvford'* 
"Memoirs"  of  Lady  Anna  Mackenzie. 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL     369 

was  attending  a  meeting  of  the  General  Assembly,  and  the 
sickness  ran  quickly  on  to  death  and  to  the  ravishments  of 
immortality.  "  You  passengers  for  glory  ! "  he  cried  to  some 
ministers  in  the  room,  "  how  near  think  ye  I  am  to  the  New 
Jerusalem  ? "  And  when  they  answered,  "  Not  far,  Sir  !  " 
it  was  his  rapturous  vow,  "  I'll  climb,  until  I  be  up  amongst 
the  innumerable  company  of  angels  and  the  spirits  of  just 
men."  He  had  given  his  parting  kiss  a  few  minutes  before 
to  his  newly  wedded  wife ;  but  she  could  not  tear  herself  from 
him,  and  he  had  to  beckon  her  away  with  the  whisper,  half 
expostulatory,  half  tender,  "  No  more  converse  with  the 
creature  !  I  never,  never,  will  look  back."  The  story  of  such 
a  translation,  when  his  mother  had  it  repeated  to  her,  was  as 
sweet  as  it  was  sharp.  And,  no  doubt,  she  "  desired  the  loss 
to  be  made  up  by  the  presence  of  the  Lord,"  as,  when  the 
nails  were  driving  into  the  coffin  of  his  Ebenezer — the  second 
of  the  name  whom  he  had  to  bear  to  the  grave — Thomas 
Boston  was  strengthened  to  do. 

A  captivating  gaiety  and  an  invincible  brightness  and  a 
sprightly  charm  gleam  from  the  features  of  that  lady  of  the 
Covenant  who,  in  her  girlhood,  was  Sir  Patrick  Hume's 
daughter,  and,  in  riper  years.  Sir  George  Baillie's  wife.  If 
one  asks  for  the  final  refutation  of  the  delusion  that  the 
Covenanter  must  needs  be  angular  and  sour-faced,  he  has  it 
in  Grissel  Baillie,  who  sang — 

Werena  my  heart  light  I  wad  die, 

and  who  translated  her  song  into  the  irrepressible  lilt  of  her 
lovely  and  pleasant  life.  "  Good  Breeding,  Good  Humour, 
Good  Sense  were  her  daily  ornaments,"  the  epitaph  says 
which  Judge  Burnet  wrote  for  her  tombstone  in  Mellerstain ; 
and  it  is  an  epitaph  that  tells  the  truth. 

Born  at  her  father's  castle  of  Eedbraes  on  a  wintry 
day  in  1665,  she  was  no  more  than  twelve  when  the 
chance  came  of  proving  her  courage  and  wit.  Sir  Patrick 
bade  her  carry  a  letter  to  Edinburgh,  to  his  bosom  friend, 
Eobert  Baillie  of  Jerviswood.  But  Baillie  was  closely  shut 
24 


370  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

up  in  prison;  although  this  is  not  yet  the  captivity  that 
was  fated  to  terminate  in  the  capital  sentence  and  the 
martyrdom  of  injustice.  How  was  his  girl-helper  to  gain 
admittance  to  his  cell  without  awakening  the  suspicion  of 
the  gaoler  ?  She  did  it  somehow,  and  delivered  her  letter, 
and  took  home  with  her  the  tidings  of  which  her  father  was 
in  quest.  The  chapter  has  its  fit  and  romantic  climax.  In 
the  melancholy  Tolbooth  she  saw  for  the  first  time  young 
George  Baillie,  and  the  two  were  lovers  from  that  moment. 
It  was  a  small  distress  to  Grissel  Hume  that  she  required 
to  wait  in  patience  through  thirteen  care-crowded  summers 
before  she  could  be  married  to  the  man  whose  eulogy  she 
uttered  long  afterwards — "the  best  of  husbands  and  delight 
of  my  life  for  forty-eight  years,  without  one  jar  betwixt  us  "  : 
the  flame  glowed  on  the  altar  from  the  minute  of  the  encounter 
in  the  dungeon,  and  her  happiness  was  sure. 

In  1684  it  was  Sir  Patrick  Hume  himself  whose  head  was 
endangered ;  and  who  but  the  high-spirited  daughter  of  the 
house  was  his  shield  and  buckler  ?  The  tale  has  often  been 
told,  but  it  bears  to  be  repeated  again  and  again.  How, 
when  the  troopers  were  in  search  of  him,  she  got  Jamie 
Winter,  the  carpenter,  to  come  to  her  aid;  and,  under  the 
screen  of  the  darkness,  they  carried  from  Kedbraes  a  bed  and 
the  bedclothes  to  the  empty  vault  beneath  Polwarth  Church ; 
and  there,  for  a  month,  she  kept  the  hunted  man  in  safest 
hiding.  He  had  no  light  to  read  by,  but  he  did  not  dream 
of  weariness,  for  he  would  recite  to  himself  George  Buchanan's 
Latin  Psalms,  which  he  knew  from  beginning  to  end.  And, 
every  midnight,  Grissel  stole  out  from  the  castle  to  visit  him. 
She  could  not  pretend  to  like  the  mile  of  lonesome  travel, 
however  hearty  her  laughter  was  when  it  was  over  and  she 
sat  beside  Sir  Patrick  in  the  Cimmerian  gloom.  The  grave- 
stones in  the  churchyard  gave  her  many  a  downfall;  and 
the  rustling  of  a  leaf  suggested  the  redcoats  in  pursuit  of 
that  dear  life  she  was  resolved  to  save ;  and  the  minister's 
dogs  barked  so  loudly  that  she  imagined  herself  detected, 
until  her  mother  coaxed  him  to  hang  them  all  lest  perhaps 
there   was    a   mad    member   in    the   pack.      And    tlien,   the 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL     371 

perplexity  of  catering  for  the  captive's  hunger,  when  the 
servants  must  be  told  nothing  of  his  whereabouts,  and  the 
younger  children  could  not  be  trusted  to  guard  the  secret ! 
Sheep's  head,  that  homely  and  wholesome  fare,  was  a  favourite 
dish  with  her  father ;  and  once,  while  the  nine  brothers  and 
sisters  were  intent  over  their  broth,  she  "  conveyed  most  of 
one  into  her  lap  " ;  but  by  and  by  Sandy  missed  it,  and  was 
bewildered  and  horrified  by  such  shameless  voracity.  "  Mother, 
will  ye  look  at  Grissel  ? "  he  cried  upbraidingly,  "  she  has  eaten 
up  the  whole  sheep's  head  ! " 

Other  devices  had  to  be  tried  soon :  Sir  Patrick  Hume's 
security  in  the  cellar  under  Polwarth  Kirk  could  not  always 
be  guaranteed.  Again  Jamie  Winter  was  summoned  to  con- 
sultation, and  was  set  now  to  the  task  of  constructing  a  great 
wooden  box.  Meanwhile,  in  an  unused  room  on  the  ground  floor 
of  the  castle,  Grissel  was  busy;  she  was  digging  out  in  the 
earth  a  hole,  both  wide  and  deep,  in  which  the  carpenter's 
chest  was  to  be  laid.  So  silently  her  work  must  be  accom- 
plished that  she  would  not  risk  the  employment  of  tools, 
her  own  lithe  and  shapely  hands  were  her  knife  and  mattock 
and  spade ;  she  laboured  at  her  strange  love-darg  until  there 
was  not  a  nail  left  on  her  fingers.  Then,  in  the  night-time, 
the  father  was  hurried  across  from  the  vault  below  the  church, 
and  within  his  own  mansion-walls  was  imprisoned  in  the 
spacious  casket  got  ready  for  him.  Through  the  openings 
bored  in  its  lid  he  breathed  in  the  air  which  fed  his  life ; 
and  he  spent  some  weeks  in  his  curious  resting-place.  But 
in  the  hole  in  the  earth  the  water  deepened  daily,  till  it 
was  not  possible  for  its  occupant  to  remain.  Once  more  he 
betook  himself  to  flight,  a  longer  flight,  to  London  and  Bordeaux 
and  Holland. 

Grissel  Hume  followed  him,  though  not  until  lier  mother 
and  most  of  the  children  had  gone  in  advance  of  her ;  she 
stayed  behind  to  take  a  special  care  of  Juhan,  who  was  sick  ; 
"  there  is  no  friend  like  a  sister,  to  cheer  one  on  the  tedious  way, 
to  lift  one  if  one  totters  down."  For  three  years  and  a  half 
she  was  the  angel  in  the  little  house  at  Utrecht.  A  most 
diligent  and  practical  angel  she  showed  herself.     The  exiles 


372  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

could  not   afford  to  keep  a  servant,  and  she  toiled  early  and 
late,  to  drive  the  wolf  from  the  door,  and  to  fill  the  rooms 
with  sweet  content.     "  There  was  not  a  week,"  Lady  Murray 
tells  us,  "  in  which  my  mother  did  not  sit  up  two  nights,  to 
do  the   business   that  was  necessary.     She   went   to  market, 
went  to  the  mill  to  have  the  corn  ground — which,  it  seems, 
is  the  way  with  good  managers  there — drest  the  linen,  cleaned 
the   house,   made   ready   the   dinner,   mended   the  children's 
stockings  and  other  cloaths,  made  what  she  could  for  them, 
and,  in  short,  did  everything."     Only  now  and  then  had  she 
leisure  to  con  a  lesson  with  the  rest  in  French  and  Dutch,  and 
to  divert  herself  with  the  music   which  she   loved.     Among 
her  most  priceless  possessions  lier  daughter  cherished  a  manu- 
script book,  in  which  the  hard-driven  Cinderella  had  written 
the  snatches  of  song  which  came  to  her  in  those  months  of 
banishment ;  and  some  of  them    were   interrupted   half-way, 
and  some  were  broken  off  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence ;  the 
Muse  and  she  could  not  sit  down  for  ten  quiet  minutes  in 
familiar   chat.      It    was    always   another's   enjoyment   which 
she   consulted  first,  it  never  was  her   own.     There   was   her 
brother  Patrick,  who  rode  in  the  Prince  of  Orange's  Guards ; 
it  was  her  constant  attention  to  have  him  appear  right  in  his 
linen  and  dress ;  she  would  have  blushed  for  shame  if  his  little 
point  cravats  and  cuffs  had  not  been  in  as  good  order  as  those 
of  the  most  fastidious  cavalier  of  them  all.     Or  there  were  the 
professors  and  men  of  learning  who  visited  her  father,  a  true 
scholar  as  well  as  a  courteous  gentleman ;  they  must  be  greeted 
with  the  best  entertainment,  even  if  it  were  but  "  a  glass  of 
alabast  beer,  which  was  a  better  kind  of  ale  than  common." 
It   was  seldom,  in  this  palace   of   frugality  whose  chambers 
were   fragrant  with  the  herb  called  Heart's   Ease,  that  they 
went  to  dinner  without   three   or   four   or   five  strangers  to 
share  the  meal  with  them ;  and  many  a  hundred   times  had 
Lady  Murray  lieard  her  mother  declare  that  she  never  could 
look   back   upon  their  manner  of  living  in  Utrecht   without 
thinking  it  a  miracle :  they  had  no  want,  but  plenty  of  every- 
thing.    Morning,  evening,  noon,  and  night,  Grissel  Hume  sang 
Theocrite's  song,  "  Praise   God ! "     For  as  her  father  would 


WOMEN  WHICH  LABOURED  IN  THE  GOSPEL    373 

say  to  her,  none  had  so  good  reason  to  be  merry  and  pleased 
as  those  who  served  the  Lord  and  obeyed  His  command- 
ments. 

But,  although  the  load  of  troubles  was  carried  with  in- 
comparable grace,  it  was  a  fortunate  hour  when  it  could  be 
unloosed  and  left  behind.  At  last  the  Prince  of  Orange  was 
King  of  England ;  and  the  exiles  crossed  the.  seas  to  Kedbraes 
again  ;  and  Sir  Patrick — that  "  thin  clever  man  " — became 
Earl  of  Marchmont  and  Chancellor  of  Scotland ;  and  Lady 
Grissel  could  wed  the  lover  for  whom  she  had  been  proud 
to  wait  ever  since  she  was  a  little  lass  of  twelve.  They  had 
many  long  years  of  fellowship ;  and  in  her  age  she  was  as 
beautiful,  without  and  within,  as  she  had  been  in  her  youth. 
"  She  was  middle-sized,  well  made,  very  handsome,  with  a 
life  and  sweetness  in  her  eyes  most  uncommon  and  a  great 
delicacy  in  all  her  features;  her  hair  was  chestnut,  and  to 
her  last  she  had  the  finest  complexion,  with  the  clearest  red 
in  her  cheeks  and  lips  that  could  be  seen  in  one  of  fifteen." 
And  her  husband,  if  he  had  known  the  words,  would  have 
applied  to  her  a  lyric  of  our  later  day — 

And  oil,  her  happy  queenly  tread, 
*  And  oh,  her  queenly  golden  head  ! 

But  oh,  lier  heart,  when  all  is  said. 

Her  woman's  heart  for  me  ! 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

PUIR  AULD  SANDY. 

WHAT    is    trite   and   customary   was   far   removed   from 
Alexander  Peden,     A  glamour  clings  about  his  person, 
and  we  seem  to  be  walking  among  enchantments  and  marvels 
when  we   are   in   company    with    him.     Weirdness,    humour, 
genius,  mystery :  these  are  the  words  which  leap  to  the  lips  if 
someone  pronounces  his  name.     Dr.  John  Brown,  speaking  of 
"  the  round-backed,  kindly,  solenm  lulls "  of  Tweed,  Yarrow, 
and  Ettrick,  says  that  they  are  "  too  plain  to  be  grand,  too 
ample   and   beautiful   to   be   commonplace."     But   there  are 
Scottish  mountains  which  are  not  plain — dark  Lochnagar,  the 
wild  and  lonely  Cuchullins,  four-peaked  Ben  Laoghal,  the  jagged 
Cobbler  which  frowns  on  Arrochar  and  Glen  Croe.     Peden  re- 
sembles one  of  these,  in  his  imaginativeness,  in  his  eccentricities, 
in  that  individuality  which  was  so  marked.    Yet  we  may  easily 
exaggerate  the  elements  of  wonder.    Could  we  know  him  as  he 
actually  was,  we  should  find  that  he  was  no  wizard,  but  a  man 
most  devout  and  most  lovable.     If  he  was  a  prophet,  his  own 
spiritual  insight  and  his  untiring  fellowship  with  God  endowed 
him  with  the  penetration  that  others  lacked.    If  he  lived  among 
escapes  and  mercies  which  appear  to  belong  to  the  realm  of 
magic,  that  was  because  he  exercised  the  faith  which  laughs 
at   impossibilities.      The   heaven   from   which   issue   answers 
to  human   prayer,  and   divine   interpositions,  and   great   and 
precious  promises,  and  disclosures  of  things  unseen,  was  nearer 
to  him  than  it  is  to  many ;  by  continual  trust  and  daily  speech 
with  the  King  he  accustomed  himself  to  "  cUmb  higher  than 
the  sphery  chime."     And  beneath  the  quaint  exterior  there 
was  a  heart  both  brotherly  and  godly. 


PUIR  AULD  SANDY  375 

It  surprises  us  to  read  that,  lover  as  he  was  all  his  days  of 
the  common  people — the  peasants,  the  moorland  shepherds, 
the  dwellers  in  hamlet  and  croft — Alexander  Peden  was  a 
gentleman  by  descent  and  upbringing.  He  was  born,  about 
the  year  1626,  in  the  house  of  Auchincloich — Auchincloich, 
which  means  "  The  Field  of  the  Stones  " — in  the  northern  part 
of  the  parish  of  Sorn,  in  the  shire  of  Ayr.  His  father  was 
a  small  proprietor,  and  he  must  have  been  the  eldest  son, 
for  he  is  described  as  heir  to  the  lairdship.  Gentlemen  were 
his  friends  too,  and,  prominent  among  them,  the  Boswells  of 
Auchinleck,  forebears  of  the  sturdy  radical  who  gloried  in  the 
memory  of  Cromwell  because  he  "  garred  kings  ken  that  they 
had  a  lith  in  their  necks,"  and  of  him  who  gave  to  the  English 
language  one  of  its  immortal  books.  If  for  many  of  his  sixty 
years  Peden  was  homeless  and  outcast,  his  life  might  have 
been  passed  amongst  those  who  want  for  nothing;  it  was  of 
his  own  accord  and  for  his  Master's  sake  that  he  chose  the 
comradeship  of  poverty.  And  he  was  well  educated,  a  scholar 
of  the  University  of  Glasgow,  who  finished  his  college  course 
when  James  Dalrymple,  famous  in  after  days  as  lawyer  and 
statesman,  was  Professor  of  Philosophy.  One  would  give 
much  to  have  Peden's  portrait.  There  would  be  nothing 
vulgar  in  the  face,  we  are  certain ;  it  would  be  strong,  but 
refined  as  well,  with  a  starry  light  in  the  eyes.  As  it  is,  we 
are  without  information  about  his  appearance.  He  was  full  of 
physical  vigour,  else  he  could  never  have  travelled  as  he  did 
from  one  lurking-place  to  another.  "  He  laid  his  heavy  hand 
upon  me,"  one  of  his  intimates  writes ;  it  is  the  solitary  hint 
allowed  us  of  his  build  and  bearing.  If  we  may  construct 
Hercules  from  his  foot,  we  may  perhaps  picture  Alexander 
Peden  from  his  "  heavy  hand  "  ;  and  then  we  shall  see  a  giant 
in  body  whom  God  had  fitted  to  endure  much  toilsomeness  and 
pain.     But  not  less  was  he  a  giant  in  soul. 

In  much  tribulation  he  began  the  race  which  was  to  be  run 
through  thickets  of  brier  to  the  end.  When  he  was  school- 
master and  precentor  in  Tarbolton,  a  young  woman  charged 
him  with  liaving  done  her  grievous  wrong.  The  accusation 
was  false ;  and  his  innocence  was  proved  as  if  by  a  miracle,  on 


376  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

the  very  day  when  he  was  about  to  be  excommunicated  from 
the  Church.  But  the  anguish  of  the  experience  was  terrible, 
and  it  left  its  scar  on  a  nature  more  trustful  and  friendly  than 
most.  By  and  by,  however,  the  keenness  of  the  wound  was 
healed  ;  and  nothing,  not  even  this,  soured  Peden,  or  made  him 
ascetic,  or  dried  up  the  bubbling  fountain  of  his  cheerfulness. 
He  never  had  wife  and  bairns,  but  there  was  no  vow  of 
celibacy,  as  imaginative  writers  have  surmised;  out  in  his 
wildernesses  he  maintained  his  fresh  and  limitless  interest  in 
his  fellow-men. 

The  Diary  of  Andrew  Hay  of  Craignethan,  a  fragment  of 
autobiography  which  the  Scottish  History  Society  published 
two  or  three  years  since,  gives  us  a  peep  at  the  schoolmaster 
in  the  process  of  admission  to  the  ranks  of  the  ministry.  Hay 
was  a  landlord  in  Clydesdale,  of  considerable  social  influence, 
bearing  a  name  honoured  for  godliness  and  worth,  and  en- 
dowed with  a  wide  culture  ;  he  was  acquainted  with  French 
and  Italian  and  Dutch,  and  had  possessed  himself  of  a  Hebrew 
Grammar,  that  he  might  gain  some  understanding  of  the 
language  in  which  the  Old  Testament  was  written.  In  1659 
he  was  a  member  of  the  Presbytery  of  Biggar  and  Lanark  ; 
and  before  this  court  Peden  appeared  on  trial  for  license.  No 
fewer  than  five  times,  Andrew  Hay  relates,  he  was  subjected 
to  examination.  In  those  days  ecclesiastical  judges  erred  surely 
not  on  the  side  of  defect  but  on  that  of  excess.  The  learned 
elder  was  disposed  at  first  to  be  critical,  as  one  of  his  entries 
testifies :  "  25th  August  1659. — About  eleven  a'cloak,  I  went 
in  to  the  Presbrie,  and  heard  Mr.  Alexr.  Pathen  have  a 
common  head  in  Latin,  De  cultu  divino,  which  was  prettie 
weell  composed,  but  not  weell  delivered."  But  this  is  the  sole 
depreciatory  comment,  and  by  slow  degrees  the  student  ex- 
hausted the  numerous  exercises  prescribed  to  him,  until  at  length 
he  was  ready  for  the  official  recognition  which  he  craved.  Late 
in  the  same  year,  or  early  in  the  next,  came  the  preacher's  ordina- 
tion. New  Luce  in  Galloway  was  his  parish,  a  parish  solitary 
and  pastoral  and  still,  in  a  land  of  glens  and  hills.  Through  the 
village  the  little  river  of  the  Luce  runs  on  its  journey  to  the 
Bay,  not  many  miles  below.     One  grieves  over  the  degeneracy 


PUIR  AULD  SANDY  377 

of  to-day.  "  If  you  met  a  mixed  company  in  the  King's  Arms 
at  Wigtown,"  Mr.  Stevenson  says,  "  it  is  not  likely  that  the 
talk  would  run  on  Covenanters.  Nay,  at  Muirkirk  of  Glenluce, 
I  found  the  beadle's  wife  had  not  so  much  as  heard  of  Prophet 
Peden."     It  was  a  blameworthy  ignorance. 

But  the  New  Luce  ministry  was  brief.  Peden  succeeded 
in  prolonging  it  for  a  few  months  after  ]\Iiddleton's  Ejectment 
Act  came  into  force ;  but  in  1663  he  had  to  go.  His  last 
Sabbath  was  one  which  the  youngest  parishioner,  even  when 
he  was  a  white-headed  veteran,  could  not  forget.  Night  had 
fallen  before  the  minister  left  the  church ;  the  people  clung  to 
him,  eager  to  keep  him  still.  Every  little  while  they  broke  into 
sobs ;  although  he  was  himself  shaken  to  the  core  of  his  being, 
he  entreated  them  to  be  calm.  At  last  he  opened  the  door  of 
the  pulpit,  and,  having  passed  through  it,  closed  it  fast  behind 
him;  and,  knocking  on  the  pulpit  very  hard  with  his  Bible 
three  times,  he  repeated  thrice  these  words :  "  In  my  Master's 
name  I  arrest  thee,  tliat  none  ever  enter  thee  but  such  as 
enter  as  I  have  done,  by  the  door ! "  The  hireling  must  not 
stand  where  the  true  shepherd  had  stood,  whose  voice  the  flock 
knew  and  whom  they  followed.  And  so,  indeed,  it  happened  ; 
because  none  of  the  curates  and  no  minister  who  had  accepted 
the  Indulgence  ever  spoke  from  the  place  where  Alexander 
Peden  had  published  Christ's  warnings  and  welcomes.  Not 
for  thirty  years  was  the  arrest  lifted  and  the  door  re-opened. 
Then,  in  1693,  when  the  Eevolution  was  fairly  established, 
William  Kyle  was  ordained  in  New  Luce,  and  took  up  the 
prophet's  mantle,  and  in  humbler  fashion  proclaimed  the  self- 
same message. 

It  is  after  his  expulsion  that  Peden's  romance  commences. 
He  is  chief  and  monarch  of  those  wandering  heralds  of  God  to 
whom,  in  that  era  of  death  and  silence,  the  country  owed  the 
deepest  debt.  For  three-and-twenty  years  the  mountains  and 
moors  were  his  haunts ;  we  pant  in  vain  after  his  unresting 
footsteps.  If  we  look  out  from  the  vantage-ground  of  his 
native  county  of  Ayr,  sometimes  he  is  north  in  Lanarkshire  or 
Kenfrewshire  or  Linlithgowshire,  sometimes  south  in  Dumfries 
or  Kirkcudbright  or  Wigtown.     Here  he  is  remembered  by  a 


378  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

grotto,  which  is  Peden's  Cave :  and  here  by  a  rock,  which  is 
Peden's  Pulpit ;  and  there  by  a  shaded  hollow,  which  is  Peden's 
Bed.  One  of  his  friends,  James  Nisbet  of  Hardhill,  son  of  him 
round  whom  such  agonies  gathered  in  the  Killing  Time,  has 
drawn  up  an  inventory  of  his  own  retreats,  the  scenes  of  his 
dangers  and  deliverances ;  and  the  minister's  catalogue  would 
have  been  longer  still.  "  The  Lord's  watchful  providence," 
Nisbet  narrates,  "  prevented  me  losing  my  life  at  all  the 
following  places — namely,  when  amongst  the  hurry  of  the 
enemy's  cruel  searches  at  my  father's  house  of  Hardhill,  at  the 
Bennet  Hill,  at  Gelt  Hill,  at  Garclagh  Hill,  at  the  Castle  of 
Kyle,  at  Dornal,  at  Corsancone  Hill,  at  Greenock  Mains,  at 
Cargilloch,  at  Wallaceton,  at  Cubb's  Craigs,  at  Barlonochie, 
at  the  Heilsh  Wood,  at  Hairstocks,  at  Carnduff  Hill,  at  Friar- 
midden  Moor,  at  Spango  Glen,  at  Hoggan  Burn,  at  Cairnscamb, 
at  Leadloch,  at  Crossford,  at  Middton,  at  Burnhouse,  and  at 
Loudoun  Wood."  There  is  a  wealth  of  movement  and  risk  and 
rescue  in  a  Covenanting  hero's  life. 

And  then  Peden's  adventures — how  various !  how  signifi- 
cant of  his  dauntlessness  and  mother-wit  and  unstaggering 
trust !  Once  he  showed  a  party  of  the  enemy's  horse  the  way 
to  the  ford.  "  You  might  have  sent  the  lad,"  a  friend  expostu- 
lated. "  No  ! "  he  retorted,  "  they  would  have  asked  questions 
at  the  lad,  and  he  might  have  fainted  and  discovered  us." 
Once,  over  among  the  glens  of  Antrim,  he  was  pinched  by 
hunger.  He  hired  himself  to  a  farmer  to  thresh  his  corn. 
The  work  was  well  done,  and  at  night  he  had  a  comfortable 
bed  in  the  barn.  But  in  the  dark  and  in  the  day,  as  his 
fellow-servant  reported,  the  stranger  was  continually  praying 
for  the  afflicted  Church  of  Scotland,  "  naming  a  great  many 
people  who  were  in  a  furnace."  So  he  had  to  confess  his 
identity,  and  was  received  into  the  house  as  an  honoured  guest, 
and  was  a  blessed  instrument  in  the  conversion  of  some  of  the 
neighbours  and  the  civilising  of  others.  Once,  in  the  spring, 
when  the  rivers  were  big  with  melting  snow,  the  troopers 
pursued  him  fast  and  close.  Into  a  flood,  where  the  current 
ran  strong,  and  where  it  seemed  that  nobody  could  live,  he 
plunged   with    his   horse.      The   dragoons    drew   bridle,  and 


PUIR  AULD  SANDY  379 

watched ;  they  did  not  dare  to  follow.  He  guided  the  horse 
skilfully  to  the  farther  side.  Then,  turning  in  his  saddle,  he 
saluted  his  baffled  antagonists.  "  Lads,"  he  cried,  with  the 
gleam  of  fun  in  his  looks,  "ye  want  my  boat  for  crossing 
waters,  and  will  certainly  drown."  But,  as  he  galloped  away, 
his  accents  were  serious  and  wistful :  "  Consider  where  your 
landing  would  be.  Ye  are  fighting  for  the  devil,  and  riding 
post  to  him.  0  think  of  it ! "  Many  a  time  the  mist  shrouded 
him,  at  the  crisis  when  his  capture  appeared  inevitable.  "  Cast 
the  lap  of  Thy  cloak,"  he  would  pray  in  touching  anthropomor- 
phisms— "  cast  the  lap  of  Thy  cloak,  Lord,  over  puir  auld 
Sandy  " ;  and  God  covered  His  child  with  His  pinions,  and 
under  His  wings  His  servant  found  refuge.  No  wonder  that 
an  intense  reality  rang  through  his  thanksgivings.  Early  on  a 
certain  morning,  after  sleeping  with  some  others  in  a  sheepcote, 
he  took  a  walk  along  the  margin  of  the  stream  which  rippled 
through  the  moor.  He  was  absent  some  time.  When  he 
returned,  he  saluted  his  associates  with  that  bracing  verse  of 
the  o2nd  Psalm — 

Thou  art  my  hiding-place  ;  Thou  shalt 
From  trouble  keep  me  free, 

adding,  in  his  picturesque  dialect,  "These  and  the  following 
are  sweet  lines.  I  got  them  at  the  burnside ;  I  will  get  more 
to-morrow ;  and  so  we  shall  have  daily  provision,  and  go  on 
in  His  strength."  Mr.  Meredith  writes  of  the  men  whom 
he  loves,  that  "  their  aspect  is  an  enlivenment,  whatever  may 
be  the  carving  of  their  features":  and  the  sentence  may  be 
snatched  from  its  context  and  appropriated  to  "  savoury  Mr. 
Peden."  His  cheerfulness  made  others  cheerful.  His  might 
have  been  the  motto  of  another  Covenanter,  Suh  pondcre  cresco 
— I  grow,  and  aspire,  and  prosper,  under  the  loads  meant  to 
drag  me  down. 

Yet  he  did  not  always  escape  the  snares  so  assiduously 
laid.  Proscribed  after  Pentland,  though  he  had  left  the 
insurgents  before  the  decisive  moment,  he  was  captured  in 
June  1G73,  when  he  was  holding  a  conventicle  at  Knockdow, 
between  Ballantrae  and  Colmonell,  in  one  of  the  pleasantest 


38o  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

bits  of  southern  Ayrshire.  Brought  before  the  Privy  Council, 
he  was  consigned  to  prison  on  the  Bass,  to  remain  there  for 
four  years  and  three  months  ;  and  then,  for  fifteen  months  more, 
the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  that  "  grave  for  men  alive,"  shut 
him  in.  Confineinent  had  its  special  irksomeness  for  one 
whose  life  had  been  so  unfettered,  but  he  did  not  murmur. 
AVe  have  a  letter  written  from  the  Bass  to  Patrick  Simpson, 
minister  of  Kilmalcolm,  who  had  sent  him  some  gifts  gathered 
by  friends— a  letter  full  of  dignity  and  delicacy.  He  thanks 
the  benefactors  for  their  kindly  dealings  with  him,  "  unworthy 
of  bonds  and  most  unworthy  to  be  remembered  in  bonds." 
He  portrays  the  sorrows  of  a  captive :  "  We  are  close  shut 
up  in  our  chambers ;  not  permitted  to  converse,  diet,  worship 
together;  but  conducted  out  by  two  at  once  in  the  day,  to 
breathe  in  the  open  air;  envying,  with  reverence,  the  birds 
their  freedom,  provoking  and  calling  on  us  to  bless  Him  for 
the  most  common  mercies.  Again  we  are  close  slnit  up,  day 
and  night,  to  liear  only  the  sighs  and  groans  of  our  fellow- 
prisoners."  But  there  is  no  loss  of  faith.  "He  knows 
wherefore  we  are  reserved  and  what  is  appointed  for  us,  who 
out  of  the  eater  brings  forth  meat.  When  darkest,  it  will  be 
light ;  and  most  care,  least  care.  0  for  grace  to  credit  Him, 
hitherto  never  cumbersome,  and  His  Cross,  in  whatever  piece 
of  service,  in  bonds  or  freedom.  He  cuts  out ! "  One  does  not 
find  Alexander  Peden  sojourning  of  his  own  will  in  a  land  of 
sand  and  thorns. 

In  December  1678  he  was  out  of  the  Tolbooth,  to  enter 
on  fresh  experiences  of  trouble.  With  sixty  others  he  was 
sentenced  to  banishment.  They  were  put  on  board  a  vessel  in 
Leith  Pioads,  to  be  conveyed  to  America.  But  he  assured  his 
brothers  in  the  kingdom  and  patience  of  Christ  that  "  the 
ship  was  not  built  that  would  bear  them  over  the  sea  to 
any  of  the  Plantations " ;  and  thus,  in  fact,  it  turned  out. 
For  in  London  they  were  all  liberated,  perhaps  because  Lord 
Shaftesbury  was  courting  the  goodwill  of  the  Presbyterians. 
Peden  made  his  way  gradually  back  to  Scotland ;  and,  for  the 
seven  years  of  conflict  that  remained,  he  divided  his  ministry 
between  his   native  country  and  the  north  of  Ireland,  going. 


PUIR  AULD  SANDY  381 

as  he  phrased  it, "  from  the  one  bloody  land  to  the  other  bloody 
land." 

If  we  have  no  portrait  of  the  man,  his  friend,  Sergeant 
Nisbet,  has  limned  the  likeness  of  the  preacher.  "  Such,"  the 
Sergeant  says,  "  was  the  weighty  and  convincing  majesty  that 
accompanied  what  he  spoke,  that  it  obliged  the  hearers  both  to 
love  and  fear  him.  I  observed  that,  between  every  sentence, 
he  paused  a  little,  as  if  he  had  been  hearkening  what  the  Lord 
would  say  unto  him,  or  listening  to  some  secret  whisper.  And 
sometimes  he  would  start,  as  if  he  had  seen  some  surprising 
sight."  The  vivid  words  bring  the  weather-worn  prophet 
before  our  eyes ;  and  we  are  beholders  of  his  native  kingliness, 
of  the  awe  and  the  affection  he  inspires,  of  his  pauses  and 
sudden  starts,  of  his  most  brotherly  familiarity  with  his  Lord. 
Such  a  man  was  certain  to  be  credited  with  supernatural 
powers ;  and,  because  his  commerce  with  the  Throne  was 
unbroken  and  his  discernment  of  men  was  shrewd  and  clear, 
the  ascription  was  not  wholly  foolish.  Often  his  forecasts 
were  simply  the  convictions  to  which  he  had  been  led  by  a 
keen  observation  and  an  alert  wisdom;  Noma  of  the  Fitful 
Head,  if  she  had  shared  his  sympathies,  would  have  predicted 
as  he  did  that,  at  Eullion  Green  and  at  Bothwell,  the  saints 
should  be  "  broken,  killed,  taken,  and  fled."  And  if,  here  and 
there,  the  premonitions  and  presentiments  are  more  inexplicable, 
what  can  we  do  but  fall  back  on  the  axiom,  as  true  in  Britain  as 
in  Israel,  that  the  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that  fear  Him, 
and  He  will  show  them  His  covenant  ?  Peden  was  the  friend 
of  God,  and  therefore  the  thin  veil  which  hides  the  future 
became  sometimes  more  transparent  and  diaphanous. 

As  Nisbet  hints,  he  could  mount  in  preaching  to  great 
heights — rugged,  to  be  sure,  but  sublime  and  solemn.  In  one 
sermon  he  spoke  of  the  living  who  yet  are  dead ;  for  "  when 
God  comes  to  call  the  roll  of  Scotland  He  shall  find  many 
blanks — dead  ministers,  dead  professors,  dead  men  and  women 
though  going  upon  their  feet."  He  instanced  different  classes 
of  the  pulseless,  bloodless,  soulless  folk.  There  are  those  who 
"  are  plunging  in  the  world,"  and  who  excuse  themselves  by  the 
plea  that  they  must  labour  for  their  livelihood.     "  0  sirs,"  he 


382  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

cried,  "  will  ye  trust  God  and  give  Him  credit  ?  If  so,  He  will 
help  you  at  all  your  work.  I  will  tell  you  what  He  would  do 
for  you.  He  would  plough  your  land,  sow  your  corn,  shear 
your  corn,  sell  your  corn,  and  bring  home  your  money.  He  will 
even,  as  it  were,  rock  the  cradle,  if  it  were  necessary,  for  you. 
He  will  condescend  as  low  as  ye  desire  Him."  Then  there  are 
the  others  who  have  a  religious  profession  but  no  inward  holi- 
ness. "  I  fear  Christ  hath  quitted  many  of  you,"  their  monitor 
said,  "  and  given  you  the  farewell  clap  upon  the  heart,  and  He 
will  reprove  you  no  more  " ;  and  can  there  be  an  exodus  more 
grievous  ?  Peden  could  not  speak  without  expressing  himself 
in  sentences  full  of  piquancy.  "  For  you,"  he  declared,  "  the 
poor  broken-hearted  followers  of  Christ,  to  whom  He  hath 
given  grace  to  follow  Him  in  the  storm,  I  tell  you,  Grace  is 
young  Glory."  Or  what  better  delineation  of  the  Church  can 
we  conceive  than  this  ? — "  Where  is  the  Church  of  God  in 
Scotland  at  this  day  ?  It  is  not  amongst  the  great  clergy.  I 
will  tell  you  where  the  Church  is.  It  is  wherever  a  praying 
young  man  or  young  woman  is  at  a  dykeside  in  Scotland  :  that's 
where  the  Church  is."  Or  again,  he  would  encourage  his  hearers 
to  talk  face  to  face  with  Christ :  "  If  there  be  one  of  you,  He  will 
be  the  Second.  If  there  be  two.  He  will  be  the  Third.  Ye  shall 
never  want  company."  Frequently  he  drew  his  illustrations 
from  what  he  had  himself  seen.  "  There  was  a  poor  widow  in 
Clydesdale  as  I  came  through,  that  was  worth  many  of  you  put 
together.  She  was  asked  how  she  did  in  this  evil  time.  '  I 
do  very  well,'  says  she ;  '  I  get  more  good  of  one  verse  of  the 
Bible  now  than  I  did  of  it  all  lang  syne.  He  hath  cast  me  the 
keys  of  the  pantry-door,  and  bidden  me  take  my  fill.'  Was  not 
that  a  Christian  indeed  ? "  It  was  no  marvel  tliat  men  listened 
to  such  an  interpreter  of  the  secrets  of  heaven. 

But,  as  the  sands  of  life  ran  out  in  the  hour-glass,  and 
as  the  clouds  grew  more  thunderous  over  the  country,  it  was 
more  difficult  to  persuade  him  to  expound  his  Lord's  message. 
A  time  had  come,  he  thought,  wlien  ministers  and  people  must 
dedicate  their  strength  solely  to  pleading  and  entreaty ;  they 
must  take  no  rest  and  give  God  no  rest.  So,  when  they  begged 
him  still  to  be  their  teacher,  he  would  answer,  "  It  is  praying 


PUIR  AULD  SANDY  383 

folk  alone  that  will  get  through  the  storm."  "  O  John  ! "  he 
said,  as  he  laid  his  heavy  hand  on  John  Clerk  of  Muirbrook  in 
Carrick,  "  there  shall  be  dark  days,  such  as  the  poor  Church  of 
Scotland  never  saw  the  like,  nor  ever  shall  see  if  once  they 
were  over.  If  a  poor  thing  should  go  from  the  East  seabank 
to  the  West  seabank,  seeking  one  to  whom  they  might  com- 
municate their  case,  or  that  would  tell  them  the  mind  of  the 
Lord,  he  shall  not  find  one.  Many  a  conventicle  has  God  had 
in  thee,  0  Scotland !  but  erelong  God  will  hold  a  conventicle 
that  will  make  Scotland  tremble.  He  sent  forth  faithful  mes- 
sengers to  preach  to  thee ;  but  erelong  He  shall  preach  to  thee 
by  fire  and  sword.  Yet " — for  Peden  was  an  inveterate  hoper, 
and  always  he  saw  "  a  rose  bud  in  the  distant  East " — "  yet, 
John,  the  Church  shall  arise  from  her  grave  ;  and,  at  the  crack 
of  her  winding-sheet,  as  many  as  had  a  hand  in  her  burial  shall 
be  distracted  with  fear.  Then  shall  there  be  brave  days  for 
the  Church,  and  she  shall  come  forth  with  a  bonny  bairn-time 
at  her  back.  0  John  !  I  shall  not  see  these  days ;  but  you 
may."  A  honny  hairn-time :  it  is  a  tender  metaphor.  If  the 
prophet  was  without  little  ones  of  his  own,  he  had  glimpses  of 
the  heaven  which  lies  about  the  infants,  and  he  knew  nothing 
so  fair  and  good  as  that  the  boys  and  girls  should  play  in  the 
streets  of  the  Jerusalem  which  he  loved  with  all  the  passion 
of  his  soul. 

In  truth,  there  was  no  gentler  heart.  Let  one  story  prove 
the  sweetness  of  his  temper.  It  was  an  age  when  faith  in 
witchcraft  was  rife,  and  when,  in  the  courts  of  law  no  less 
than  in  the  ruder  tribunals  of  the  countryside,  cruelties  well- 
nigh  unbelievable  were  inflicted  on  poor  creatures  suspected  of 
necromancy  and  the  evil  eye.  But  Peden  chose  the  better  way. 
Once,  when  he  was  addressing  a  crowd,  an  old  woman,  with  a 
name  for  everything  uncanny,  sat  before  him.  He  went  to 
her,  and,  placing  his  two  hands  on  her  head,"  I  offer  Christ  to 
thee,"  he  said  in  tones  authoritative  and  kind.  She  had  a  Ijad 
master,  he  told  her,  and  she  would  never  "  make  a  bawbee  of 
him  "  ;  why  not,  then  and  there,  renounce  the  devil's  service, 
and  turn  to  the  Master  wliom  it  was  the  preacher's  joy  to  obey  ? 
And  the  witch -wife  did  as  he  bade ;  and  from  that  day  the 


384  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

neighbours  saw  the  change ;  and  years  after,  when  she  waited 
for  death,  she  "  expressed  her  great  thankfulness  that  she  had 
the  good  fortune  to  hear  Mr.  Peden."  To  her,  in  her  ignorance 
and  peril,  he  was  the  mouthpiece  of  the  King  of  Love. 

Gladly  would  the  Cameronians  have  enrolled  "  auld  Sandy  " 
among  the  captains  of  their  tenacious  soldiery.     But,  though 
his  beliefs  and  theirs  were  akin,  he  never  allied  himself  with 
them.     Probably  their  rule  was  somewhat  too  rigid  for  his 
larger  catholicity.     Yet  he  honoured  the  men  who  were  ardent 
to  root  every  doubtful  plant,  darnel  or  poppy  or  mustard,  from 
the  cornfields  of  Jesus  Christ ;  he  saw  in  them  the  truest  of 
his  spiritual  brothers.     For  a  while,  indeed,  there  was  variance 
between  him  and  young  James  Kenwick.    They  differed  in  their 
estimates  of  the  Earl  of  Argyll's  ill-omened  expedition,  Peden 
welcoming  a  movement  whose  aim  was  to  drive  a  Popish  king 
from  the  throne,  while  to  Eenwick  the  enterprise  seemed  too 
exclusively   political  and  secular.      They   stood   apart,  these 
leaders  in  one  army.     But,  when  the  call  came  to  the  older 
man  to  pass  within  the  veil,  he  purged  mind  and  heart  from 
every  shred  of  bitterness.     He  sent  for  Kenwick,  who  hastened 
to  his  side  at  once,  finding  him  "in  very  low  circumstances, 
with  few  to  take  care  of  him ;  for  seldom  had  he  unclothed 
himself  these  years,  or  gone  to  bed."     Tears  mount  to  the  eyes 
as  we  read  what  followed.     When  the  boy  of  twenty-three 
entered,  Peden  raised  himself  on  his  elbow,  and  looked  at  him. 
"  Sir,"  he  asked,  "  are  ye  the  Mr.  James  Ptcnwick  that  there  is 
so  much  noise  about  ?  "    "  Father,"  the  other  answered,  "  my 
name  is  James  Eenwick  ;  but  I  have  given  the  world  no  ground 
to  make  any  noise   about  me,  for  I  have   espoused  no  new 
principle  or  practice,  but  what  our  Eeformers  and  Covenanters 
maintained."     "  Well,  sir,"  commanded  the  dying  man,  "  turn 
about  your  back."     It  was  done.     "  I  think  your  legs  too  small 
and  your  shoulders  too  narrow  to  take  on  the  whole  Church  of 
Scotland.     Sit  down,  sir,  and  give  me  an  account  of  your  con- 
version and  of  your  call  to  the  ministry,  and  the  grounds  of 
your  taking  such  singular   courses  in  withdrawing  from  all 
other  ministers."     Eenwick  told  the  sacred  story — how  from 
his  childhood  the  Lord's  voice  had  spoken  with  him ;  how  on 


PUIR  AULD  SANDY  385 

three  successive  mornings,  in  a  retired  place  in  the  King's 
Park,  which  he  used  to  frequent  before  he  went  abroad,  he  got 
very  signal  confirmations  of  his  call  to  the  ministry  ;  what  his 
reasons  were  for  contending  against  tyranny  and  defections, 
and  for  keeping  up  an  active  testimony  against  all  the  evils 
of  the  day.  And,  when  he  ceased,  Peden  said,  "  Ye  have 
answered  me  to  my  soul's  satisfaction,  and  I  am  very  sorry  that 
I  should  have  believed  any  ill  reports  of  you.  But,  sir,  ere 
you  go  you  must  pray  for  me ;  for  I  am  old  and  going  to 
leave  the  world."  Then  Eenwick,  "  with  more  than  ordinary 
enlargement,"  poured  out  his  soul  for  the  travel-worn  pil- 
grim whose  course  was  almost  finished.  The  prayer  ended, 
Peden  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  drew  him  towards  himself, 
and  kissed  him.  "  Sir,"  he  said,  his  last  suspicions  scattered, 
"  I  find  you  a  faithful  servant  to  your  Master.  Go  on  in  a 
single  dependence  on  the  Lord,  and  ye  shall  win  honestly 
through  and  cleanly  off  the  stage."  And  now  it  was  his  turn 
to  pray;  and  he  pleaded  that  God  might  spirit,  strengthen, 
support,  and  comfort  young  James  Eenwick  in  all  duties  and 
difficulties.  Was  there  ever  a  lovelier  peacemaking  ?  We  re- 
joice that  it  was  enacted  on  this  side  of  death,  before  Peden 
and  Eenwick  reached  that  desirable  country  where,  as  Francis 
Quarles  puts  it,  "  Martha's  reconciled  to  Mary." 

When  he  felt  that  the  end  was  very  near,  Alexander 
Peden  crept  back  to  the  old  home  at  Auchincloich.  But  even 
then  there  was  no  rest  for  him;  the  Government  kept  up 
its  constant  search.  He  left  the  house,  and  hid  himself  in  a 
cave  close  at  hand.  Sometimes  he  would  say,  "  Carry  me  to 
Ayrsmoss,  and  bury  me  beside  Eitchie,  that  I  may  have  quiet 
in  my  grave ;  for  I  have  had  little  in  my  life."  But  instantly 
he  would  add,  the  prophet's  vision  unsealing  his  sight  once 
more,  that  it  mattered  nothing  where  his  body  might  be  laid, 
because  it  would  immediately  be  lifted  again.  And  so  it 
actually  w^as.  He  died  in  January  1686,  no  more  than  sixty 
years  old,  exhausted  by  his  countless  privations.  As  soon  as 
he  was  gone,  the  Boswells  of  Auchinleck,  anxious  to  guard 
from  insult  what  remained  of  their  friend,  caused  his  bones 
to  be  interred  secretly  in  their  own  family  vault.  But  the 
25 


386  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

soldiers  discovered  the  gracious  deed,  and  rifled  the  tomb  of  its 
prey.  Up  to  the  hill  above  Cumnock  they  took  the  body,  and 
there,  in  spite  of  every  remonstrance,  they  suspended  it  on  the 
gibbet.  When  it  was  cut  down,  it  was  buried  afresh  in  con- 
tempt, like  a  criminal's,  at  the  foot  of  the  gallows-tree.  In 
death  as  in  life,  Peden  was  dowered  alike  with  the  love  of  love 
and  with  the  scorn  of  scorn. 

But  see  how  God  avenges  His  own  elect !  Until  these 
waning  years  of  the  seventeenth  century  the  churchyard  of 
Cumnock  had  been  in  the  village  below.  But  now  men  and 
women  began  to  carry  their  "  unforgotten  dearest  dead "  out 
to  the  Hill  of  Keproach,  that  they  might  sleep  the  sufficient 
sleep  by  the  side  of  Alexander  Peden.  Little  by  little  the 
place  became  the  hallowed  graveyard  of  the  town ;  and,  as 
Professor  Veitch  sings. 

Hearts  were  drawn  to  the  saint  lifted  up, 
Cliristlike  in  the  glory  of  shame. 

He  does  not  lie  alone  to-day,  that  part  of  him  which  was 
mortal  and  corruptible.  Round  him  on  every  side  he  has  his 
own  friends  of  the  West  Country. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

DUNNOTTAR  AND  THE  BASS. 

~VrEAE  Stonehaven,  on  a  huge  mass  of  conglomerate  rock 
Xi  which  rises  from  the  restless  waters  of  the  North  Sea  to 
a  height  of  almost  160  feet,  stand  the  ruins  of  Dunnottar 
Castle.  The  great  keep  had  a  lively  history  in  the  years  when 
it  was  still  roofed  and  inhabited,  as  he  knows  who  has  read 
Dr.  John  Longmuir's  wise  little  book.  Here,  however,  we  are 
concerned  with  but  one  of  its  chambers — a  chamber  whose 
four  walls,  in  King  James's  time,  were  witnesses  of  many 
cruelties  and  wrongs.  The  Whigs'  Vault  is  about  fifty-five  feet 
long,  fifteen  and  a  half  feet  broad,  and  twelve  feet  high.  It 
has  two  tiny  windows,  which  used  to  be  secured  by  strong  iron 
bars.  Cut  in  the  stone  of  the  walls,  at  an  elevation  which 
removes  them  to  more  than  the  height  of  the  tallest  man  from 
the  ground,  are  a  number  of  horizontal  niches.  These  have 
their  memories  of  anguish  and  brutality.  For  the  keepers,  in 
the  black  months  of  which  we  are  thinking,  would  force  into 
them  the  hands  of  refractory  prisoners;  and  there  the  un- 
fortunates hung,  sustaining  the  whole  weight  of  their  bodies, 
until  it  pleased  the  iron  gaoler  to  set  them  free. 

In  eleven  weeks,  in  the  summer  of  1685,  the  Whigs'  Vault 
in  Dunnottar  was  the  beholder  of  sufferings  which  were  more 
painful,  and  tyrannies  which  were  less  defensible,  than  those 
which  the  fortress  of  a  feudal  baron  has  seen  in  its  long  life- 
time of  despotism  and  unrighteousness. 

These  were  the  days  when  the  authorities  in  London  and 
Edinburgli  were  apprehensive  that  Argyll,  and  the  ships  and 
men   he   was   bringing   from   Holland,  might   work   grievous 

mischief,  and  might  cause  them  a  world  of  trouble.     It  was 

387 


388  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

not  politic,  they  told  themselves,  to  keep  so  many  fiery -hearted 
Covenanters  massed  together  in  the  Tolbooths  in  the  High 
Street  and  the  Canongate.  On  Monday,  the  18th  of  May, 
they  hurried  the  captives  down  to  Leith,  to  lie  overnight  in 
open  boats,  and  to  be  ferried  at  daybreak  next  morning  across 
the  Firth  to  Burntisland.  Dr.  Hay  Fleming,  who  is  student 
and  lover  of  each  pin  and  cord  and  tassel  in  the  tabernacle  of 
the  Covenant,  has  told  us  that  there  were  in  all  224  of  these 
prisoners,  and  that,  after  thirty-six  men  and  four  women  had 
satisfied  the  Laird  of  Gosford  at  Burntisland  that  their 
Presbytery  was  scarcely  of  the  decisive  sort  which  will  make 
no  concessions,  and  had  in  consequence  been  sent  back  to 
Edinburgh,  there  remained  184  whose  destination  was  the 
vault  in  Dunnottar.  But  on  the  march  through  Fife  and 
Forfar  a  few  escaped,  and,  within  a  short  space  after  their 
arrival  at  the  woeful  ending  of  their  journey,  some  died.  Thus 
we  arrive  at  that  catalogue  of  167 — of  whom  forty-five  were 
women  and  122  were  men — which  is  preserved  in  the  office  of 
the  Sheriff-Clerk  of  Kincardineshire. 

Let  us  try  to  conceive  the  horrors  of  it.  Into  the  Whigs' 
Vault  all  of  these  men  and  women  were  huddled  by  the 
Governor  of  the  castle,  George  Keith  of  Whiteridge.  It  was 
ankle-deep  with  mire.  It  was  a  cramped  cell,  where  they 
were  without  air  to  breathe  and  without  room  to  sit  down. 
They  were  closely  confined  within  it  for  days.  Although  some 
were  sick  and  on  the  verge  of  death,  their  friends  were  denied 
a  candle  in  the  dark,  to  minister  to  their  needs.  The  pro- 
visions allotted  them  were  the  coarsest,  and  for  these  they 
were  charged  an  excessive  price :  the  soldiers  compelled  them 
to  pay  even  for  the  cold  water  which  they  drank.  After  a 
time,  forty  of  their  number  were  transferred  to  a  dungeon 
underneath  the  vault  itself,  a  sort  of  Mamertine  Dungeon. 
It  was  still  worse  than  the  prison  they  had  left.  Its  inmates 
had  no  light  except  what  reached  them  through  a  slit  in  the 
wall.  They  might  have  been  dwellers  in  the  grave.  Then, 
after  another  interval,  a  real  alleviation  of  their  distresses  was 
granted  them.  The  Governor's  wife  caught  a  glimpse  of  their 
pitiful  condition,  and  her  gentler  heart  was  shocked  at  what  she 


DUNNOTTAR  AND  THE  BASS  389 

saw.  She  induced  her  husband  to  give  the  women  two  rooms 
which  they  should  have  as  their  own ;  and  for  their  brothers 
in  tribulation  she  contrived  to  gain  a  few  trifling  privileges. 

Yet  their  misery  was  only  a  shade  less  intolerable  than 
it  had  been.     At  length  twenty-five  determined  to  make  the 
attempt  to  escape.     At  the  risk  of  their  lives,  they  let  them- 
selves  down   to   the   steep   rocks   overhanging  the  sea.     But 
fifteen   were   recaptured:    they    were    so    enfeebled    by    the 
degradations  and  pains  to  which  they  had  been  subjected  that 
they   could   not   run   for  anything  but  the  shortest  distance. 
For   them   more   excruciating  agonies   were   reserved.     They 
were  carried  to  the  guard-house,  where  they  were  bound  and 
laid  on  rough  low  benches.     Between  the  fingers  of  their  hands 
kindled  matches  were  placed ;  and,  lest  the  flame  should  flicker 
out,  the  soldiers,  standing  round,  blew  it  into  an  intenser  glow. 
For  three  long  hours  the  torture  was  continued ;  until  William 
Niven  lost  one  of  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  and  Alexander 
Dalgleish  died  of  his  wounds  and  of  the  inflammation  which 
resulted  from  them,  and  others  had  the  bones  of  their  hands 
reduced   to   ashes.     In   Nicholas   Ferrar's   Story   Book— that 
quaint   manual   of   interludes   and   discourses    and    dialogues 
recited  in  the  Great  Eoom  at  Little  Gidding  fifty  years  before 
the  terrible  woes  of  Dunnottar— there  is  the  tale  of  Theodorus, 
a  youth  of  Julian  the  Apostate's  day,  who  for  singing  psalms 
was  by  the  Emperor's  command  tormented  from  morning  to 
noon.     Afterwards  he  was  asked  how  he  had  endured  sufferings 
so  great  with  constancy  and  cheerfulness.     "  I  wanted  not  the 
sence  of  Paine,"  he  said,  "but  there  stood  by  mee  a  Young 
Man,  that  ever  and  anon  with  a  fine  Linen  wiped  away  the 
sweat,  and  sprinkled  my  body  with  a  most  cold  water,  whereby 
not  only  the  heat  and  the  smart  of  the  stripes  and  wounds  was 
mitigated,  but  I  was  so  refreshed  and  delighted  as,  when  I  was 
taken  down  from  the  Engine  of  torment,  it  grieved  me  more 
than  before."     Niven  and  Dalgleish  and  the  rest  had,  surely, 
the   presence   of  the  divine  Young  Man — Him  at  whom  the 
Jews  hurled  the  taunt,  Thou  art  not  yet  fifty  years  old.     In 
their  later  age,  they  were  able  to  repeat  the  ancient  victory  of 
Theodorus. 


390  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Patrick  Walker,  the  biographer  of  the  Men  of  the 
Covenant,  is  perhaps  the  best-known  among  the  confessors  of 
Dunnottar.  It  is  he  who  has  preserved  for  us  the  wonderful 
letter  which  Peden,  in  one  of  the  weeks  of  July,  sent  him  and 
his  fellows,  a  letter  of  richest  comfort  couched  in  homeliest 
words.  -  "  If  ye  think  Christ's  house  be  bare  and  ill-provided, 
harder  than  ye  looked  for,  assure  yourselves  Christ  minds  only 
to  diet  you  and  not  to  hunger  you;  our  Steward  kens  when  to 
spend  and  when  to  spare."  ..."  Grace  and  glory  comes  out  of 
Christ's  lucky  hand."  .  .  .  "He's  the  easiest  Merchant  ever 
the  people  of  God  yoked  with ;  if  ye  be  pleased  with  the  wares, 
what  of  His  graces  makes  best  for  you,  He  and  ye  will  soon  sort 
on  the  price ;  He'll  sell  good  cheap,  that  ye  may  speir  for  His 
shop  again,  and  He  draws  all  the  sale  to  Himself."  ..."  Now, 
when  it  is  come  to  your  door  either  to  sin  or  suffer,  I  counsel 
you  to  lay  your  count  with  suffering ;  for  an  outgate  coming 
out  of  any  other  airt  will  be  prejudicial  to  your  souls' 
interest."  ..."  There  shall  not  be  a  pin  in  all  your  graces,  but 
God  shall  know  whether  it  be  crooked  or  even ;  He  will  never 
halt  until  He  be  at  the  bottom  of  men's  hearts."  ..."  I  defy 
the  world  to  steal  a  lamb  out  of  Christ's  flock  unmissed ;  what 
is  wanting  at  the  last  Day  of  Judgment,  Christ  must  make 
them  all  up."  ..."  Christ  deals  tenderly  with  His  young 
plants,  and  waters  them  oft,  lest  they  go  back ;  be  painful,  and 
lose  not  life  for  the  seeking.  Grace,  mercy,  and  peace  be  with 
you."  These  are  among  the  Cardiphonia  of  an  epistle  as  sweet 
and  strong  as  that  which  St.  Peter  sent  to  the  Strangers  of  the 
Dispersion,  when  they  marvelled  at  the  fiery  trial  which  tried 
them. 

After  the  brief  blaze  of  Argyll's  insurrection  had  exhausted 
itself,  the  prisoners  of  Dunnottar  were  released.  At  Leith 
they  were  offered  the  Oath  of  Allegiance,  and  thirty  men  and 
seven  women,  their  spirit  gone  after  treading  such  a  Dolorous 
Way,  repeated  the  subservient  sentences.  But  the  majority, 
"  stooping  into  a  dark  tremendous  sea  of  cloud,"  did  as 
Paracelsus  did — "pressed  God's  lamp  close  to  their  breasts." 
They  refused  to  conforiu.  They  were  sent  away,  in  a  ship 
which  scarcely  had  turned  Land's  End  before  fatal  fever  broke 


DUNNOTTAR  AND  THE  BASS  39^ 

out   on   board,  to   the   King's   Plantations  on  the  American 
continent. 

The  reader  of  Catriona  is  well  acquaint  with  Andie  Dale, 
the  Prefect  of  the  Bass,  as  David  Balfour  jocularly  called  him, 
the  shepherd  and  the  gamekeeper  of  that  small  and  rich  estate. 
"  Ay,"  Andie  would  say,  "  it's  an  unco  place,  the  Bass  "  ;  and 
the  untranslatable  Scots  adjective,  his  whilom  captive  felt, 
was  the  only  one  to  describe  the  Plutonic  stronghold  on  which 
he  found  himself  detained.  "  It  was  an  unco  place  by  night, 
unco  by  day  ;  and  these  were  unco  sounds,  of  the  calling  of  the 
solans,  and  the  plash  of  the  sea  and  the  rock  echoes,  that  hung 
continually  in  our  ears."  There  were  Covenanters  who  had  a 
familiar  knowledge  of  the  "  unco  place."  From  1673  to  1687 
some  of  their  number  were  always  there.  Lauderdale  had 
bought  it,  for  the  exorbitant  sum  of  £4000  sterling,  from  Sir 
Andrew  Kamsay,  the  Provost  of  Edinburgh,  and  had  transmuted 
it  into  a  state  prison.  To  its  dreariness  and  isolation,  for 
periods  which  ranged  from  a  few  months  to  more  than  six 
years,  the  Privy  Council  sent  nine-and-thirty  of  the  troublesome 
soldiers  of  the  Kirk. 

One  of  them,  James  Eraser  of  Brea,  delineates  the  rock 
as  he  saw  it  between  the  January  of  1677  and  the  July  of 
1679.  In  stormy  weather,  he  tells  us,  it  is  girt  about  with  the 
thunders  and  reverberations  of  the  waves,  which  will  toss 
themselves  up  to  the  fortress  and  pour  into  the  court  in  front 
of  the  prisoners'  chambers.  Pound  the  whole  circumference, 
which  is  some  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  there  is  but  one  place 
of  landing  :  every  other  front  is  too  high  and  too  steep.  And 
you  must  have  a  full  sea  when  you  land ;  for,  if  the  tide  is  at 
the  ebb,  you  will  need  to  climb  on  hands  and  knees  up  the 
artificial  steps — steps,  each  of  which  is  so  distant  from  its 
neighbour  that,  now  and  then,  you  must  get  the  help  of  some- 
one above  you.  On  the  south  side  stands  the  Governor's 
house;  and,  a  little  higher,  one  comes  to  the  gaol  and  the 
quarters  for  the  garrison.  From  these,  by  windings  cut  in  the 
crag,  there  is  a  path  which  mounts  to  the  summit.  It  will 
repay  you  to  make  the  ascent,  because   on  the   top   various 


392  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

pleasant  things  are  to  be  found.  There  is  grass  sufi6cient  to  feed 
twenty  or  twenty-four  sheep,  which  are  there  very  fat  and  good. 
There  is  a  garden  too,  where  herbs  grow,  and,  among  the  herbs, 
a  few  cherry  trees,  the  fruit  of  which  Fraser  has  several  times 
tasted ;  and,  just  -beneath  the  garden,  a  chapel  for  divine 
service — but,  alas !  the  soldiers  have  profaned  the  house  of 
prayer  into  a  magazine  for  the  storing  of  their  ammunition. 
In  these  uppermost  parts,  moreover,  the  visitor  discovers 
sundry  walks.  Of  necessity,  they  are  tantalisingly  short : 
threescore  feet  in  length  they  may  claim  to  have,  but  no  more. 
Yet  the  caged  men  in  those  dark  and  narrow  dungeons  below 
are  glad  when  they  are  permitted  to  seek  them  out.  There 
they  can  be  solitary,  musers  and  talkers  with  God,  who 
meantime  are  not  interrupted  by  the  coarsenesses  and 
mockeries  of  their  keepers :  there,  indeed,  they  are  able  to 
entertain  themselves.  A  strong  place  the  Bass  is,  as  well  as 
an  "  unco  "  one.  On  its  southern  face  cannon  are  planted ;  but 
on  its  other  aspects  it  is  sufficiently  defended  by  nature,  so 
huge  is  it  in  its  height  and  so  frowning  in  its  looks.  Two 
dozen  warriors,  if  they  are  courageous,  James  Eraser  thinks, 
will  defend  it  against  millions  of  men ;  and,  in  fine,  it  is  only 
expugnable  by  hunger. 

The  good  man,  according  to  his  wont,  makes  the  best  of  his 
unlovely  prison ;  of  the  martyrs  it  has  been  written  that  "  he 
who  lies  broyling  on  a  Gridiron  in  others'  eies  lies  in  his  owne 
Conceit  upon  a  Bed  of  Pleasure."  But  incarceration  on  the 
Bass  was  far  from  being  a  holiday  experience.  Some  of  the 
cells  had  only  one  small  window,  and  it  was  placed  at  such  a 
height  above  the  floor  that  the  occupants  could  see  neither 
earth  nor  sky.  Others  of  them  looked  out  upon  nothing  but 
a  stone  pavement  between  two  rigid  walls ;  and  up  and  down 
this  pavement  the  sentry  paced,  watching  the  movements  of 
his  cribbed  and  cabined  victims.  In  the  winter  the  rooms 
were  many  a  time  full  of  smoke,  so  dense  that  it  threatened  to 
suffocate  those  who  were  condemned  to  live  under  its  inky 
pall.  And,  here  and  there,  there  was  a  Black  Hole  yet  loath- 
somer  and  more  frightful  than  its  companions,  as  Thomas  Hog 
of  Kiltearn  knew.     In  his  dunceon   serious   illness  overtook 


DUNNOTTAR  AND  THE  BASS  393 

him,  and  he  petitioned  the  Council  to  give  him  his  freedom. 
Some  of  its  members  were  disposed  to  grant  the  prayer ;  but 
Sharp  said  No,  protesting  that  Hog  could  do  them  more  hurt 
sitting  in  his  elbow-chair  than  twenty  others  could  by 
travelling  through  the  country,  and  that,  if  there  was  one  place 
on  the  Bass  hatefuller  than  another,  he  ought  to  be  consigned 
to  it.  That  was  the  Archbishop's  sentence ;  and,  when  the 
prisoner  heard  it,  he  declared  that  it  was  as  severe  as  if  Satan 
had  been  the  penman.  So  they  dragged  him  down  by  a  sub- 
terranean alley  to  a  dismal  den,  and  left  him  there,  in  "a 
hideous  cavern,  arched  overhead,  dank  and  dripping,  with  an 
opening  towards  the  sea  which  dashes  within  a  few  feet  below." 
With  Thomas  Hog  the  worst  had  come  to  the  worst.  But 
then,  as  in  kindred  instances  of  suffering  for  righteousness' 
sake,  a  miracle  happened.  His  sickness  disappeared ;  soon  he 
was  perfectly  well.  AVhen,  in  subsequent  years,  he  spoke  of 
his  Grace  of  St.  Andrews,  not  a  syllable  of  resentment  escaped 
his  lips.  "  Commend  him  to  me,"  he  would  say  laughingly, 
"  for  a  good  physician." 

In  truth,  it  was  the  habit  of  the  prisoners  on  the  Bass  to 
esteem  their  stone  walls  and  iron  bars  a  hermitage.  Peden 
did  so,  and  Major  Joseph  Learmont,  and  the  Campbells  of 
Cessnock,  and  Gilbert  Eule,  and  Alexander  Shields.  Our  brave 
field-preacher,  John  Blackader,  was  sent  to  the  loneliness  of 
the  cliff  in  1681  and  died  there  four  and  a  half  years  afterwards, 
every  request  of  his  friends  for  his  release  proving  fruitless ; 
but  he  moved  always  in  a  large  place,  and  his  epitaph  in  North 
Berwick  churchyard  assures  us  that,  as  an  older  John  had 
found  Pisgah  in  Patmos,  so  "  no  chains  could  bind  his  heaven- 
aspiring  soul."  Or  let  us  hearken  to  John  M'Gilligen,  the 
minister  of  Fodderty,  "  Since  I  was  a  prisoner,"  he  writes, 
"  I  dwelt  at  ease  and  lived  securely.  The  upper  springs  flowed 
liberally  when  the  nether  springs  were  embittered ;  and  I  have 
had  the  experience  of  that  saying,  Tanta  est  dulcedo  ccelestis 
gaudii  ut,  si  una  guthda  defiueret  in  infernum,  totam  amari- 
tudinem  inferni  dbsorberet " :  a  saying  which  is  a  veritable 
trumpet-call  and  paean  of  triumph — "  Such  is  the  sweetness 
of  Heaven's  delight  that,  if  one  little  drop  of  it  were  to  flow 


394  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

down  into  hell,  it  must  vanquish  all.  hell's  gall  and  wormwood," 
transfiguring  this  Marah  of  Marahs  into  an  Elim  where  we  may 
have  "rest  beneath  the  palm  tree  and  joy  beside  the  well." 
And  as  for  Fraser  of  Brea,  no  persecution  could  make  his  heart 
bankrupt  or  could  lessen  his  fruit-bearing.  "  Every  day,"  he 
records,  "  I  read  the  Scriptures,  exhorted  and  taught  there- 
from, did  sing  psalms,  and  prayed  with  such  of  our  society  as 
our  masters  did  permit  to  worship  God  together,  and  this  two 
times  a  day.  I  studied  Hebrew  and  Greek,  and  gained  some 
knowledge  in  these  Oriental  languages.  I  likewise  read  some 
divinity,  and  wrote  a  Treatise  of  Faith,  with  some  other 
miscellanies,  and  letters  to  Christian  friends  and  relations." 
He  could  scarcely  have  done  more  if  he  had  been  at  home  in 
his  northern  parish. 

Silvio  Pellico,  in  the  narrative  of  his  imprisonment,  pictures 
a  dungeon  in  Milan,  on  the  walls  of  which  he  read  the 
legends  inscribed  by  those  who  had  tenanted  the  chamber 
before  him.  Some  were  mere  names  and  dates ;  some,  rude 
and  degrading  sketches ;  some,  sentiments  of  resignation  and 
religion ;  some,  scoffing  atheism.  Those  Covenanters  who  so- 
journed in  the  old  keep  on  the  Bass  Kock,  with  the  surging 
and  sobbing  sea  beating  round  them,  left  in  their  cheerless 
rooms  only  the  high  tradition  of  fortitude  and  godliness. 


CHAPTER   XXxXV.I. 

HE  WAS  OF  OLD  KNOX'S  PRINCIPLES. 

IF  James  Eenwick  was  not  absolutely  the  last  of  the 
Scottish  martyrs,  he  was  the  last  who  died  a  public  and 
judicial  death  in  the  cause  of  the  Covenant.  The  roll  of 
witnesses,  whose  testimony  was  sealed  with  blood,  could  not 
have  had  a  nobler  ending  and  colophon.  The  very  letters  of 
his  name  seemed  full  of  spiritual  significance  to  those  who 
loved  him,  and  who  mourned  when  he  was  torn  from  their 
head.  "  I  am  Christ's  Meek  Servant,"  or  else,  "  Mine  Marck 
is  Ever  the  Same" — these  were  the  halting  anagrams  which 
they  elicited  from  "  Master  James  Rhenvick."  The  art  was 
forced  and  defective ;  but  the  reverence  was  limitless.  He 
was  their  dearest,  kingliest,  best,  whom  the  scaffold  had  taken, 
and  their  cup  of  sorrow  overflowed. 

Eenwick  was  born  in  Nithsdale,  in  the  village  of  Moniaive, 
in  February  1662.  His  parents  had  little  worldly  wealth, 
the  father  being  a  weaver  by  trade ;  but,  like  other  Scottish 
peasants  and  toilers,  they  dedicated  their  boy  from  his  infancy 
to  the  ministry  of  Christ's  Church.  In  the  child's  gracious 
behaviour  they  began  soon  to  see  tokens  that  their  hopes  for 
him  were  to  be  amply  fulfilled ;  "  by  the  time  he  was  but  Two 
Years  of  Age,"  his  biographer,  Alexander  Shields,  says,  "he 
was  discerned  to  be  aiming  at  Prayer,  even  in  the  Cradle  and 
about  it,"  There  were  other  premonitions  too — shadows  in 
the  Dumfriesshire  Nazareth  of  the  Edinburgh  Cross.  His 
father,  dying  when  the  lad  was  thirteen,  was  already  firmly 
persuaded  that  his  son's  day  of  life  should  be  short — short,  but 
eminent  and  far-shining.  Yet  it  was  not  without  tribulation 
of  soul  that  young  Eenwick  found  himself  amongst  believing 


396  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

men.  He  was  a  student  and  a  graduate  of  the  University 
of  Edinburgh ;  and,  at  college,  he  had  his  own  agony  of  intel- 
lectual struggle  to  pass  through.  For  a  while  he  wandered 
in  a  labyrinth;  he  felt  uncertain  of  the  foundation-truths 
of  religion.  Once;  "  being  in  the  Fields  and  looking  to  the 
Mountains,  he  was  so  strongly  assaulted  with  Temptations  of 
Atheism  that  he  said,  '  If  these  were  all  devouring  Furnaces 
of  burning  Brimstone,  I  should  be  content  to  go  through  them, 
if  so  be  that  thereby  I  could  be  assured  that  there  is  a  God.' " 
He  could  have  sympathised  with  Eutherfurd,  who  speaks  of 
the  sceptical  questions  with  which  the  good  are  assailed,  and 
adds  in  a  pregnant  parenthesis,  JSxpertus  loquor.  It  was 
through  the  wilderness  that  he  entered  the  land  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey.  He  faced  the  spectres  of  the  mind,  and 
laid  them,  and  came  to  find  a  stronger  faith  his  own.  And 
we,  whom  the  same  spectres  trouble,  are  drawn  into  nearer 
brotherhood  with  him,  because  he  had  these  sharp  contendings 
of  spirit,  and  because  the  clouds  threatened  to  blot  out  his 
Sun. 

When  peace  had  returned,  and  God  was  firmly  enthroned 
in  the  citadel  of  the  soul,  an  incident  happened  which  deter- 
mined the  character  of  his  future.  In  the  July  of  1681,  in 
the  crowd  at  the  Mercat  Cross,  he  saw  Donald  Cargill  done 
to  death,  and  the  resolution  awoke  within  him  that  he  must 
take  up  that  torch  which  the  older  confessor  was  compelled 
to  lay  down ;  he  and  no  other  should  be  Cargill's  son  in  the 
faith.  Thus  we  discover  him  among  the  Mountain  Men,  a 
member  of  the  United  Societies,  as  eager  as  any  of  their 
ranks  for  the  battle  against  the  tyrannies  of  the  time.  It  was 
they  who  sent  him  to  Holland,  to  Rotterdam  and  Groningen 
and  Leewarden,  that  he  might  complete  the  studies  which 
were  preparing  him  for  the  office  of  preacher.  There,  when 
he  was  twenty-one,  he  was  ordained  to  the  high  and  hazardous 
calling;  and  in  the  summer  of  1683  he  was  again  in  his  own 
country,  the  "  rendezvous  of  hell "  and  yet  the  gate  of  heaven. 
How  he  had  longed,  during  his  temporary  exile,  for  the  hour 
of  home-going !  "  0,  mind  sweet  Scotland ! "  he  wrote  to 
one   correspondent ;    and   to   another,   "  I    am    not    a    httle 


HE  WAS  OF  OLD  KNOX'S  PRINCIPLES         397 

sorrowful  at  the  very  heart  that  I  am  not  in  Scotland,  for 
nothing  that  ever  I  was  trysted  with  was  such  an  exercise 
to  me  as  my  being  detained  out  of  it  is  " ;  and,  on  still  another 
occasion,  "  I  think  that  if  the  Lord  could  be  tied  to  any  place, 
it  is  to  the  moors  and  mosses  in  Scotland."  The  fire  of  the 
patriot  leaped  and  flamed  within  James  Eenwick. 

In  November  1683,  at  Darmead  in  the  parish  of  Cam- 
busnethan,  he  preached  his  first  sermon,  out  under  the  open 
sky,  to  a  great  congregation.  Of  set  purpose  he  selected 
for  his  text  the  passage  from  which  Donald  Cargill  had 
spoken  last :  was  he  not  unfurling  anew  the  standard  which 
had  fallen  from  the  veteran's  hand  ?  It  was  the  invitation 
of  the  Book  of  Isaiah,  the  heavenly  call  to  a  perplexed  and 
tortured  Church  to  confide  in  the  guardianship  of  God : 
Come,  My  'people,  enter  thou  into  thy  chambers  and  shut  thy 
doors  about  thee ;  hide  thyself  as  it  were  for  a  little  moment, 
until  the  indignation  be  overpast.  If  anyone  imagines  that 
Eenwick  was  merely  an  ecclesiastic  and  a  controversialist 
and  a  man  of  war,  he  needs  but  to  read  this  sermon  in  order 
to  be  disabused  of  the  error.  It  is  full  of  evangelical  tender- 
ness and  fervour.  The  intense  desire  to  make  his  hearers 
acquainted  with  the  living  Saviour  governs  and  illuminates 
and  quickens  its  pleading  sentences.  The  preacher  lingers 
over  the  opening  word  of  the  verse,  the  word  which  Christ 
never  tired  addressing  to  labouring  and  heavy-laden  men : 
"  We  must  proclaim  this  word  Come  to  you  as  long  as  you 
are  here,  until  you  be  transplanted  out  of  your  spiritual 
warfare  into  celestial  triumph.  0  sirs,  come,  come !  Ask 
what  you  will,  and  He  will  give  it.  0,  come,  come ! "  A 
century  and  a  half  after  the  Cameronian's  day,  over  in 
Wiirtemberg,  another  young  spokesman  of  the  Crucified  Lord 
carried  the  same  message  to  his  countrymen.  He  was  but 
five  years  older  than  Kenwick  when  he  finished  his  course ; 
but,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Covenanter,  the  effect  of  his  teaching 
was  wonderful.  People  flocked  from  distances  of  twelve  and 
sixteen  miles  to  listen,  and  under  his  spiritual  power  their 
heads  were  bent  involuntarily,  so  that  the  congregation 
resembled  a  cornfield   with   the   grain   bowing   beneath    the 


398  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

sweep  of  the  wind.  "I  have  but  one  sermon,"  he  said  :  "  Come, 
sinners,  and  look  on  Christ.  I  preach  the  Lamb  that  was 
slain  ;  that  draws  hearts — 0  brothers,  that  draws  hearts  ! 
It  is  a  pity  that  we  have  so  many  words  which  do  not  go  to 
Him.  But  I  have  found  that  he  who  preaches  Christ  never 
runs  done.  We  get  done  with  our  wisdom,  for  it  is  a  vessel, 
and  a  vessel  has  a  bottom ;  but  the  love  of  Christ  is  an 
abyss,  and  out  of  His  fulness  we  receive  grace  for  grace." 
Ludwig  Hofacker  and  James  Eenwick  were  close  of  kin. 

After  the  conventicle  at  Darmead  there  began  for  Eenwick, 
who  was  scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  a  life  of  unremitting  effort. 
In  four  years'  time  he  was  dead ;  but  into  the  brief  ministry 
he  crowded  the  labours  of  a  quarter  of  a  century.  He  was 
perpetually  preaching  ;  it  was  the  task  in  which  he  delighted 
most.  But  this  was  not  all.  Within  twelve  months  he  is 
said  to  have  baptised  more  than  six  hundred  children ;  for 
fathers  and  mothers  rejoiced  to  have  their  little  ones  intro- 
duced to  the  family  of  faith  by  a  man  behind  whom  they 
heard  the  steps  of  the  divine  Master.  And  he  wrote  In- 
formatory  Vindications,  to  defend  his  creed  and  his  comrades 
and  himself  from  the  slanders  which  were  heaped  on  them. 
Plainly  he  did  not  understand  what  idleness  meant.  It  has 
to  be  remembered,  moreover,  that  he  was  not  physically 
strong,  like  Alexander  Peden — he  had  no  "  heavy  hand  "  to 
lay  on  the  shoulder  of  a  friend ;  he  was  delicate  and  fragile. 
In  a  letter  written  in  the  concluding  months  of  his  life  to 
Sir  Kobert  Hamilton,  we  catch  a  pathetic  glimpse  of  the 
weakness  against  which  he  had  to  fight.  "  My  business  was 
never  so  weighty,  so  multiplied,  and  so  ill  to  be  guided,  to  my 
apprehension,  as  it  hath  been  this  year ;  and  my  body  was 
never  so  frail.  Excessive  travel,  night  wanderings,  unseason- 
able sleep  and  diet,  and  frequent  preaching  in  all  seasons  of 
weather,  especially  in  the  night,  have  so  debilitated  me  that 
I  am  often  incapable  for  any  work.  Sometimes  I  fall  into  fits 
of  swooning  and  fainting.  When  I  use  means  for  my  recovery, 
I  find  it  someways  effectual ;  but  my  desire  to  the  work,  and 
the  necessity  and  importunity  of  people,  prompts  me  to  do 
more   than    my   natural    strength   will   well   allow,   and    to 


HE  WAS  OF  OLD  KNOX'S  PRINCIPLES         399 

undertake  such  toilsome  business  as  casts  my  body  down 
again,  I  mention  not  this  through  any  anxiety,  quarrelling, 
or  discontent,  but  to  show  you  my  condition  in  this  respect.  I 
may  say  that,  under  all  my  frailties  and  distempers,  I  find  great 
peace  and  sweetness  in  reflecting  upon  the  occasion  thereof  ; 
it  is  a  part  of  my  glory  and  joy  to  bear  such  infirmities, 
contracted  through  my  poor  and  small  labour  in  my  Master's 
vineyard."  He  makes  us  think  of  David  Brainerd,  riding 
through  the  endless  woods  of  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania, 
intent  on  gathering  the  Eed  men  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
all  the  while  that  consumption  was  eating  into  his  frame. 
Indeed,  he  makes  us  think  of  Jesus  Christ,  whom  zeal  for  the 
Father's  house  consumed. 

His  flights  and  concealments  and  hairbreadth  escapes 
were  thick  as  the  leaves  in  Vallombrosa.  On  a  July  day  in 
1684  he  was  travelling,  in  company  with  other  three,  to  a 
meeting.  Suddenly  they  espied  two  dragoons  riding  towards 
them ;  but,  because  at  first  they  saw  no  more  than  two,  tliey 
continued  to  pursue  their  own  way.  As  soon  as  they  were 
within  word  and  shot,  the  enemy  disclosed  his  real  strength. 
There  was  a  company  of  over  twenty.  It  was  hopeless  for 
four  men  to  contend  against  such  odds,  and  they  turned  and 
fled.  Eenwick's  three  companions  were  captured,  although 
one  of  them  had  received  eleven  wounds  before  he  yielded. 
But  he  himself,  with  the  King's  soldiers  close  behind  him, 
galloped  to  the  top  of  a  low  hill  called  Dungavel.  When  he 
was  almost  at  the  summit,  he  judged  it  best  to  dismount  from 
his  horse  ;  for  he  was  too  conspicuous  a  target  for  the  match- 
locks of  his  antagonists.  He  threw  himself  on  the  green  grass, 
and  crept  on  hands  and  knees  to  the  shelter  of  a  little  cairn 
that  crowned  the  hill.  Behind  the  cairn,  on  the  farther  slope, 
where  for  a  minute  or  two  he  would  be  concealed  from  the 
troopers,  he  found  a  pit ;  and  "  it  entered  into  my  mind,"  he 
says,  "  that  it  was  ordained  of  God  for  hiding  me."  He  lay 
down  within  the  hollow,  ready  for  whatever  the  divine  will 
might  be,  even  if  a  moorland  death  or  a  march  to  the  gallows 
were  in  store  for  him.  Still  the  conviction  was  strong  that 
the  last  stage  of  his  journey  had  not  yet  arrived.     Over  and 


400  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

over  to  himself  he  repeated  the  verses  of  the  psalms :   this, 
Depart  from  me,  all  ye  workers  of  iniquity,  which  he  crooned 
a  hundred  times ;   and  this,  He  shall  give  His  angels  charge 
concerning  thee,  a  promise  which  came  to  his  spirit  with  such 
conquering  force"  that  he  lifted  his  head  to  see  the  angels ; 
"  but,  -considering  my  folly  in  that  particular,  I  was  made  to 
laugh  at  mine  own  witlessness."     There,  in  the  hole  on  the  hill- 
side,  he   remained   hidden  and  still  until  sunset,  sometimes 
praying,  sometimes  praising,  and  sometimes  weeping  over  the 
fate  which,  he  was  convinced,  had  befallen  his  friends.     Then, 
when  he  thought  that  he  might  venture  forth,  but  yet   re- 
membered his  ignorance  of  the  country  and  of  the  whereabouts 
of  any  house   which   was  likely  to   give   him   welcome   and 
shelter,  he  asked  God  to  lead  and  guide  him.     And  the  Father 
heard  the  cry  of  the  child ;  for,  after  he  had  tramped  about 
four  miles  over   the   heather,  he   encountered   a   companion, 
whom  he  could  trust  implicitly,  and  went  with  him  to  his 
home,  and  kept  a  meeting  there,  although  the  militia  were 
searching  the  whole  district  for  the  proscribed  preacher.     "  The 
world  is  full  of  miracles,"  cried  John  Howe ;  "  we  are  compassed 
about  with  such,  and  are  such."     Eenwick,  himself  a  constant 
miracle,  moved   in  a  realm  where   the   miraculous   was   the 
occurrence  of  every  day.     Across  the  wine-red  moors,  and  up 
the  mountain-slopes,  and  down  the  glens,  through  all  those 
western  shires  which  he  described  as  "  flowered  with  martyrs," 
the   legions  of   heaven   accompanied   him   as  bodyguard  and 
retinue. 

Nowhere  have  we  such  a  revelation  of  the  man  himself,  in 
his  mingled  bravery  and  gentleness,  as  in  his  letters.  They 
may  not  have  the  "  Oriental  fragrancy  "  of  Samuel  Kutherfurd's, 
but  they  breathe  their  own  aroma;  if  they  are  not  garden 
roses,  they  are  the  violets  and  hyacinths  of  the  woods. 
Certainly  Renwick  shares  his  forerunner's  limitless  enthusiasm 
for  Christ.  "  Though  I  had  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
years,"  he  says  in  the  March  of  1684,  "yea,  the  faculty  of 
angels,  I  could  in  no  ways  lay  out  mine  obligations  to  free 
grace ;  but  behoved,  when  I  had  babbled  my  fill,  to  seal  up 
all  with  this,  Christ  is  matchless"     Two  years  later,  " to  the 


AN  EXECUTION   IN  THE  GUASSMARKET. 
From  an  Old  Print. 


HE  WAS  OF  OLD  KNOX'S  PRINCIPLES         401 

honourable  Societies  of  Strangers  at  Leewarden  in  Friesland," 
he  breaks  out  in  similar  raptures :  "  They  that  have  been  most 
ravished  with  His  love,  and  most  eloquent  in  the  praise  of  His 
comeliness,  will  see  that  they  have  been  but,  at  best,  babes 
learning  to  speak.  0,  what  shall  I  say  ?  He  is  the  wonderful, 
glorious,  and  inestimable  Jewel ;  the  incomparable  Pearl  of 
price.  0,  who  would  not  choice  Him  ?  who  would  not  give 
away  themselves  to  Him  ?  Let  a  man  look  through  heaven 
and  earth,  and  seek  a  portion  where  he  will,  he  shall  not  find 
the  like  of  Christ."  For  a  Master  so  supremely  good,  in  a 
service  so  desirable,  one  may  greet  difficulty  and  hardship  and 
hostility  with  smiling  face.  "  0  precious  Kingdom  ! "  exclaims 
our  pilgrim  along  the  highroad  of  the  Cross ;  "  and  0  noble 
way  that  He  is  taking  this  day  to  enlarge  it,  by  stretching  out 
the  borders  thereof  with  blood  !  His  house  is  a  costly  house, 
and  it  is  well  worthy  of  costly  cementing."  Borne  for  Him, 
reproaches  become  "  badges  of  honour,"  and  is  it  not "  more  sweet 
to  be  swimming  in  the  swellings  of  Jordan  for  Christ  than  to 
swelter  in  the  pleasures  of  sin  "  ?  "  Love,"  Kenwick  declares, 
his  prose  assuming  the  melodies  of  poetry,  "  love  is  a  resolute 
soldier  ;  love  is  an  undaunted  champion  ;  love's  eye  is  so  much 
taken  up  with  contemplating  the  Beloved  that  it  cannot  see 
dangers  in  the  way,  but  runs  blindly  upon  them,  and  yet  not 
blindly,  because  it  knoweth  for  Whom  and  for  what  it  so 
ventureth."  The  race  is  beset  with  toils,  as  he  can  testify  who 
maintains  it  "  through  many  damps  and  deeps  "  ;  but  nothing 
will  persuade  him  and  his  brothers  to  forsake  it  for  the  path 
of  dalliance  and  ease.  "  Our  natures  would  have  the  way  so 
squared  as  we  might  travel  without  a  rub ;  but  it  lieth  through 
many  a  rencounter.  We  would  have  it  through  a  valley  of 
roses ;  but  it  lieth  through  a  valley  of  tears.  We  would  have 
it  so  as  to  be  travelled  sleeping ;  but  it  must  be  travelled 
waking  and  watching  and  fighting.  We  would  have  it  to  be 
travelled  with  laughing ;  but  it  must  bo  travelled  with  weep- 
ing. But,  whatever  folks  do  think,  the  way  is  pleasant  to  the 
believer,  and  a  sight  of  the  recompense  of  reward  maketh  bold 
to  pass  through  every  opposition.  If  they  were  possible,  ten 
thousand  deaths,  ten  thousand  hells,  would  seem  nothing  to  a 
26 


402  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

soul  who  gets  a  sight  of  Christ  at  the  other  side."  The  world's 
most  splendid  boons  cease  soon  to  satisfy  a  hungering  spirit ; 
"  the  earth  is  round  and  the  heart  of  man  three-nooked,  and 
therefore  this  cannot  be  filled  by  that."  But  the  poor  man 
who  walks  with  God,  even  when  shadows  and  thunders  are 
round  about  Him,  fares,  summer  and  winter,  through  a  good 
land  and  large :  "  Away  with  scrimpit  sense,  which  constructs 
aye  God's  heart  to  be  as  His  face  !  Faith  is  a  noble  thing  ;  it 
soars  high ;  it  can  read  love  in  God's  heart  when  His  face 
frowns."  James  Eenwick  has  learned  it  from  experience. 
Out  on  the  hills  at  midnight,  "  when  the  curtains  of  heaven 
have  been  drawn,"  the  quietness  of  all  things  brings  to  his 
mind  the  deep  and  silent  and  inexpressible  ocean  of  joy,  in 
which  the  whole  family  of  the  higher  house  are  everlastingly 
drowned ;  each  star  leading  him  out  to  wonder  what  He  must 
be  who  is  the  bright  and  morning  Star,  and  who  makes  His 
people  to  shine  as  stars  in  the  firmament.  And,  on  such 
ineffable  midnights,  would  he  exchange  places  with  Lord  Perth, 
or  Viscount  Dundee,  or  King  James  in  his  palace  of  Whitehall  ? 
No,  no  !  "  Indeed,  if  I  may  term  it  so,  I  am  much  obliged  to 
my  enemies ;  for,  though  they  purpose  my  misery,  yet  they 
are  instrumental  in  covering  many  a  fat  table  to  me ;  and, 
while  they  are  pining  away  in  dusk  envy  and  pale  fear,  I 
am  feeding  in  peace."  They  are  the  beggars,  and  he  is  the 
prince. 

For  some  years  the  voice  of  the  penman  of  these  beautiful 
letters  was  raised  alone  on  behalf  of  the  Covenant ;  even  Peden, 
as  we  have  seen,  dismayed  by  the  excesses  of  Lag  and  Earlshall 
and  Claverhouse,  had  given  himself  to  praying  rather  than  to 
preaching.  On  Eenwick's  head,  therefore,  the  fury  of  the 
Government  was  poured  in  its  fullest  Hood.  "  We  command 
and  charge  all  and  sundry  our  lieges  and  subjects,"  an  edict  of 
the  Privy  Council  runs,  which  was  issued  in  September  1684, 
"  that  they  nor  none  of  them  presume,  nor  take  upon  hand 
to  reset,  supply,  or  intercommune  with  the  said  Mr.  James 
Kenwick,  rebel  aforesaid ;  nor  furnish  him  with  meat,  drink, 
house,  harbour,  victual,  nor  no  other  thing  useful  or  comfortable 
to  him ;  or  to  have  intelligence  with  him  by  word,  writ,  or 


HE  WAS  OF  OLD  KNOX'S  PRINCIPLES         403 

message,  or  any  other  manner  of  way  whatsoever,  under  the 
pain  of  being  esteemed  art  and  part  with  him  in  the  crimes 
foresaid,  and  pursued  therefor  with  all  rigour  to  the  terror 
of  others.  And  we  hereby  require  all  our  sheriffs  and  other 
officers  to  apprehend  and  commit  to  prison  the  person  of  the 
said  Mr.  James  Kenwick  wherever  they  can  find  him."  It  was 
a  pitiless  proclamation ;  but  it  proves  how^  warmly  and  how 
widely  the  Cameronian  preacher  was  loved  that,  in  spite  of  its 
threatenings,  he  remained  secure  from  his  persecutors  for  more 
than  three  years  after  it  was  promulgated.  In  every  part 
of  the  Lowlands  he  could  count  his  leal  friends,  who  were 
prepared  to  succour  him  however  the  men  in  authority  might 
rage.  The  slight,  bright-haired  stripling,  from  whose  lips  the 
word  of  God  flowed  in  gentle  stream,  had  twined  himself  about 
their  hearts ;  they  would  willingly  have  suffered  for  him  them- 
selves. Yet  he  was  misled  by  no  illusions ;  day  after  day  he 
told  himself  and  others  that  he  was  marching  towards  his  death, 
"  I  think,"  he  wrote  to  a  lady,  "  we  are  not  yet  entered  our 
Jordan ;  for  though  we  have  come  through  a  miry  and  thorny 
wilderness,  yet  our  Jordan  is  before  us,  and  it  will  be  very  deep 
but  it  will  not  be  very  broad.  When  the  Ark  of  God  enters 
it,  it  shall  be  like  to  drown ;  but  it  shall  suddenly  and  admir- 
ably win  to  the  farther  side."  His  own  Jordan  was  assuredly 
to  be  deep,  but  happily  not  very  broad;  erelong  he  would 
stand  on  its  higher  banks,  the  brimming  floods  breasted  and 
left  behind. 

In  May  1685,  with  two  hundred  men  surrounding  him, 
he  rode  into  Sanquhar,  and  affixed  to  its  Market  Cross  a 
Declaration  couched  in  terms  akin  to  those  of  the  memorable 
document  which  Kichard  Cameron  had  fastened  to  the  same 
spot  five  years  before.  In  1686  he  was  for  some  weeks  in  the 
north  of  England,  preaching  in  its  fields  and  villages  when- 
ever an  opportunity  was  given  him.  In  the  wintry  days  of 
December  he  took  part  in  the  General  Meeting  of  the  United 
Societies,  at  which  Alexander  Shields  was  ordained  to  the 
ministry.  In  the  springtime  of  1687  he  and  Shields  framed 
and,  later  in  the  year,  published  the  Inforviatory  Vindication. 
It  is  tlie  apology  for  the  stricter  party  among  the  Covenanters. 


404  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

It  defends  them  from  the  charges  brought  against  them,  not 
only  by  undisguised  foes  but  by  those  many  of  whose  beliefs 
were  identical  with  theirs.  Especially  it  explains  why  they 
could  not  own  all  the  ministers  of  the  Kirk — why  they  felt 
constrained  in  conscience  to  hold  aloof  from  the  fellowship  of 
their  brethren ;  and  were  not  on  that  account  to  be  denounced 
as  guilty  of  schism,  and  of  marring  needlessly  the  peace 
of  Jerusalem.  The  argument  is  clearly  stated  and  forceful, 
and  yet  the  pages  are  not  lacking  in  the  celestial  grace  of 
charity.  For,  says  Renwick,  "  we  do  not  look  upon  all  these 
ministers  that  we  withdraw  from,  upon  more  or  fewer  of  the 
foresaid  grounds,  to  be  no  ministers,  yea  or  no  more  ministers 
of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  or  that  their  pastoral  acts  are 
invalidate  or  null ;  but  only  that  we  cannot  lawfully  embrace 
them  as  our  ministers,  and  concur  with  them  in  the  public 
work,  as  they  are  now  circumstanced."  Through  chapter  after 
chapter,  compactly  welded  and  carefully  reasoned,  the  book 
journeys  with  firm  step,  until  it  reaches  this  characteristic 
final  sentence :  "  We  add  no  more,  but  desire  that  this  be 
taken  as  the  unbosoming  of  the  genuine  thoughts,  and  exhibit- 
ing the  mind  and  sentiments,  as  to  the  controversies  of  the 
present  time,  of  a  poor,  wasted,  wounded,  afflicted,  bleeding, 
misrepresented,  and  reproached  Eemnant  and  Handful  of 
suffering  people,  who  desire  to  throw  down  what  God  will 
throw  down,  and  to  build  what  He  will  establish  when  He 
comes :  to  Whom  be  the  kingdom  and  dominion  for  ever  and 
ever.  Amen."  He  who  wishes  to  appreciate  the  ecclesiasticism 
of  James  Renwick  must  mark  and  digest  the  Informatory 
Vindication. 

But  the  hour  approached  when  he  was  to  be  delivered  up. 
At  Peebles,  in  the  end  of  1687,  he  had  a  narrow  escape  from 
capture.  In  Edinburgh,  a  month  or  two  later,  he  was  taken. 
He  was  lodging  in  the  house  of  a  friend  on  the  Castle  Hill, 
where  his  voice  was  overheard  in  prayer,  and  recognised.  The 
next  morning  an  attempt  was  made  to  arrest  him  ;  but,  avoid- 
ing those  who  entered  the  room,  he  ran  down  the  Castle  Wynd 
to  the  head  of  the  Cowgate.  There  he  was  seized,  and  given 
over  to  the  City  Guard.     When  Graham,  the  captain,  saw  him, 


HE  WAS  OF  OLD  KNOX'S  PRINCIPLES         405 

he  was  astonished.  "  What ! "  he  said,  "  is  this  boy  that 
Mr.  Eenwick  whom  the  nation  has  been  so  troubled  with  ? " 
Hurried  to  prison,  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  offered  himself 
freely  to  God,  asking  only  that  the  cruelty  of  his  enemies 
might  be  so  far  restrained  that  they  should  do  nothing  more 
against  his  body  than  take  his  life.  He  was  highly  strung  and 
sensitive,  and  had  suffered  much  from  the  dread  of  torture, 
wondering  often  whether  among  the  pains  of  boots  and 
thumbscrews  he  could  continue  faithful  to  the  last.  His 
entreaty  was  answered ;  on  the  day  before  he  died  he  could 
bear  witness,  "  I  have  found  Christ's  Cross  sweet  and  lovely, 
for  I  have  had  many  joyful  hours  and  not  a  fearful  thought 
since  I  came  hither."  And  when  his  mother  spoke  of  how  she 
shrank  from  seeing  the  head  and  hands  which  she  had  fondled 
set  up  in  derision  on  the  gates  of  the  town,  "  You  shall  never 
see  that,"  he  smiled  and  assured  her ;  "  because  I  have  offered 
my  life  to  the  Lord,  and  have  sought  that  He  will  bind  them 
that  they  may  do  no  more ;  and  I  am  much  persuaded  that 
they  shall  not  be  permitted  to  torture  my  body,  nor  touch  one 
hair  of  my  head  further."  Already,  in  the  phrase  of  his  great 
contemporary  who  wrote  The  Saint's  Everlasting  Best,  Eenwick 
had  the  malignant  planet  Saturn  under  his  feet. 

The  Privy  Council  condemned  him  on  three  charges :  that 
he  refused  to  acknowledge  the  King's  authority  ;  that  he  would 
not  pay  cess  to  His  Majesty ;  that  he  counselled  his  followers 
to  come  armed  to  their  meetings — charges  the  truth  of  which 
he  admitted  at  once.  They  reprieved  him  for  a  week  after  the 
sentence  of  death  had  been  passed ;  and  during  its  course  they 
tried  by  every  means  to  shake  his  constancy,  or,  at  least,  to 
persuade  him  to  apply  for  pardon  and  release.  But  their 
endeavours  were  futile ;  he  had  set  his  face  like  a  flint  towards 
the  consummation  of  his  good  fight.  Once  his  mother  asked 
him  how  he  was,  and  he  answered,  "  I  am  well ;  but,  since  my 
last  examination,  I  can  hardly  pray."  Then,  when  he  saw  her 
glance  of  distress,  he  added,  "  Being  so  much  taken  up  with 
praising,  and  so  ravished  with  the  joy  of  the  Lord." 

Those  responsible  for  his  execution  knew  in  what  odium 
the   crime   would    involve   them ;    and,   almost   to   his   latest 


4o6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

minute,  they  strove  to  induce  him  to  furnish  them  with  the 
pretext  for  setting  him  at  liberty.  But  he  clung  to  his 
consistency  rather  than  to  his  life.  He  would  part  with  no 
fragment  of  the  truth,  although  there  were  accents  in  which  at 
times  his  message  had  been  uttered  that  seemed  now  to  his 
scrupulous  conscience  over-emphatic  and  severe.  On  the 
morning  of  the  day  on  which  he  suffered,  he  sent  his  last 
salutation  to  Sir  Eobert  Hamilton :  "  I  do  still  adhere  unto  the 
matter  of  my  Testimony,"  he  wrote,  "  but  I  think  the  manner 
of  expression  is  in  some  things  too  tart."  Love  ruled  him  to 
the  end — to  that  death  of  which  he  said  that  for  him  it  was 
"  as  a  bed  to  the  weary."  At  length  the  drums  beat  for  the 
guard.  "Yonder,"  he  cried  with  brightening  looks,  "is  the 
welcome  warning  to  my  marriage.  The  Bridegroom  is  coming. 
I  am  ready !  I  am  ready ! "  Eound  the  scaffold  in  the 
Grassmarket  an  immense  crowd  was  grouped;  but  he  was 
permitted  to  say  very  little  to  the  people :  the  rattle  of  the 
drums  went  on  through  the  death-scene.  He  sang  the  103rd 
Psalm,  and  read  the  nineteenth  chapter  of  the  Book  of  the 
Eevelation,  and  prayed  aloud.  "  By  and  by,"  he  exclaimed, 
turning  his  face  upwards  to  the  bleak  and  wintry  skies,  "  I 
shall  be  above  those  clouds ;  then  I  shall  enjoy  Thee  and  glorify 
Thee  without  intermission  for  ever."  Once  more  the  young 
preacher  of  twenty-six  had  the  better  of  his  enemies.  Once 
more,  while  they  pined  in  dusk  envy  and  pale  fear,  he  fed  in 
peace. 

It  was  the  17th  of  February  1688  when  James  Eenwick 
was  martyred.  Before  the  year  was  out,  the  Stuarts  were  in 
exile,  and  the  persecution  was  closed.  He  died  as  the  herald 
of  a  more  gracious  day.  "  He  was  of  old  Knox's  principles,"  his 
adversaries  said,  when  they  noted  his  unassailable  steadfastness. 
But  we  may  take  our  farewell  of  him  in  words  which  were 
written  by  one  who  loved  him  dearly :  "  When  I  speak  of  him 
as  a  man,  none  more  comely  in  features,  none  more  prudent, 
none  more  heroic  in  spirit,  yet  none  more  meek,  more  humane 
and  condescending.  ...  He  learned  the  truth  and  counted  the 
cost,  and  so  sealed  it  with  his  blood." 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

LO,  THE  WINTEE  IS  PAST. 

WHEN  James  Eenwick  died,  the  persecution  had  been 
prolonged  for  twenty-eight  years  of  daily  alarms  and 
miseries.  It  is  not  easy  to  arrive  at  an  accurate  computation 
of  the  victims  of  the  sorrowful  and  weary  time.  John  Howie 
in  The  Scots  Worthies  may  overshoot  the  mark,  and  yet  he 
cannot  be  far  from  the  truth.  Eighteen  thousand,  he 
calculates,  endured  either  death  or  "  the  utmost  hardship  and 
privation."  Of  these,  seventeen  hundred  were  banished  to 
the  American  plantations ;  and,  out  of  the  seventeen,  two 
hundred  were  lost  in  shipwreck.  To  the  northern  islands  of 
Scotland,  then  almost  a  terra  incognita,  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  were  exiled,  to  wear  out  an  existence  which  would  have 
been  forlorn  enough  if  it  had  not  been  sweetened  by  supernal 
consolations.  Those  sentenced  to  imprisonment  in  the 
Tolbooths  of  the  towns,  and  the  dungeons  and  keeps  of  the 
country,  are  reckoned  at  two  thousand  eight  hundred.  Those 
killed  in  skirmish  and  insurrection  were  at  least  six  hundred 
and  eighty ;  while  no  fewer  than  seven  thousand  sought 
voluntarily  an  asylum  under  milder  and  friendlier  skies.  In 
the  fields  and  on  the  hillsides  five  hundred  were  slain  in  cold 
blood ;  and  three  hundred  and  sixty  were  executed  after  some 
form  of  examination  had  been  perfunctorily  and  summarily 
hurried  through.  It  is  impossible  to  count  the  men  and 
women  and  children  who  succumbed  to  rain  and  frost  and 
fatigue  and  hunger  in  their  wanderings  across  mosses  and 
mountains.  When  everything  is  remembered,  John  Howie's 
figure  of  eighteen  thousand  cannot  be  much  in  excess  of  the 

grim  reality. 

407 


4o8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

But  even  the  long  winter  of  the  Arctic  world  yields  place 
to  summer  and  sunshine.  The  days  lengthen.  The  ice  melts. 
The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth.  And  the  end  of  the  travail 
and  anguish  of  the  Scottish  Church  was  at  hand. 

King  James  touched  nothing  which  he  did  not  mismanage 
and  spoil.  His  policy  was  a  curious  mixture  of  tyranny  and 
toleration.  A  Eomanist  himself,  he  was  resolved  to  grant  new 
liberties  to  his  Catholic  subjects.  But  he  dared  not  single 
them  out  alone  for  the  enjoyment  of  favour ;  the  country, 
he  realised,  was  too  fervently  Protestant  to  permit  such  a 
preference.  Of  necessity  he  embraced  other  excluded  folk 
in  the  largesse  he  distributed.  In  Scotland,  the  year  1687 
saw  no  less  than  three  Indulgences  issued  under  the  royal 
seal.  These  suspended  "  all  penal  and  sanguinary  laws  made 
against  any  for  nonconformity  to  the  religion  established  by 
law,"  and  gave  sanction  to  His  Majesty's  "  loving  subjects  to 
meet  and  serve  God  after  their  own  way  and  manner,  be  it  in 
private  houses,  chapels,  or  places  purposely  hired  or  built  for 
that  use."  Only  against  the  Conventicler  did  the  lightnings 
continue  to  flash  forth ;  the  Acts  which  Parliament  had 
decreed  for  the  suppression  of  the  gatherings  in  the  open 
fields  were  left  in  full  force ;  for  impenitent  Cameronians  it 
seemed  that  there  could  be  no  whisper  of  mercy  and  no 
outgate  into  freedom.  Yet  here  were  large  measures  of 
release,  which  might  carry  in  them  the  promise  of  a  hopefuller 
era.  If  the  followers  of  Eenwick  denounced  them,  there  were 
Presbyterian  ministers,  in  prison  or  banishment  or  hiding,  who 
welcomed  James's  Indulgences,  and  returned  to  their  homes 
under  the  shelter  of  their  provisos.  But  even  they,  profiting 
although  they  did  by  the  altered  current  of  affairs,  had  no 
confidence  in  the  man  who  brought  it  about. 

They  could  not  but  see  that  he  was  a  despot  of  the  purest 
type.  The  emancipation  he  allowed  them  was  their  birthright, 
to  which  they  had  an  inalienable  claim;  they  ought  never 
to  have  been  defrauded  of  it ;  and,  now  that  it  was  restored, 
the  acknowledgment  should  have  been  made  that  the  King 
gave  them  merely  what  was  their  due.     But   tliere    was   no 


THE   LOKD   ADVOCATE   MACKENZIE. 
After  the  Portrait  by  Kneller. 


LO,  THE  WINTER  IS  PAST  409 

such  admission.  On  the  contrary,  the  liberty  was  described 
emphatically  as  a  singular  boon,  bestowed  in  virtue  of  "  Our 
sovereign  authority,  prerogative  royal,  and  absolute  power." 
It  came  from  an  autocrat,  who  might  withdraw  his  conces- 
sions as  arbitrarily  as  he  granted  them.  They  must  have 
remarked,  also,  how  he  tore  down  with  one  hand  what  he 
built  up  with  the  other.  While  the  Indulgences  preached 
toleration,  the  Killing  Time  ran  its  unhindered  course,  and 
men  were  still  butchered  on  the  moors  or  dragged  to  execution 
in  the  Grassmarket.  There  was  no  effective  quenching  of  the 
fires  of  persecution,  no  sheathing  as  yet  of  the  sword  which 
had  been  dipped  so  deeply  in  Covenanting  blood.  And  it 
was  not  a  hard  matter  to  divine  the  motive  which  underlay 
the  surface  clemency.  Had  there  been  no  Eoman  Catholics 
to  secure  from  disabilities  and  penalties,  the  blue-bonnets 
would  have  been  kept  in  the  heat  of  the  scorching  furnace. 
Not  because  they  were  pitied,  not  because  at  length  some 
sense  of  their  tragic  woes  had  touched  the  stony  heart  of  the 
monarch,  was  the  relaxation  yielded,  but  solely  because  those 
who  stood  at  the  opposite  pole  from  themselves  in  the  religious 
world  were  in  need  of  roomier  space  and  an  ampler  air. 

And  Scotland  dreaded  nothing  so  profoundly  as  the  return 
of  Roman  Catholicism.  The  peril  crept  close  to  her  in  those 
months.  James  induced  many  of  the  nobles  to  send  their 
children  abroad,  that  they  might  be  educated  in  Jesuit  colleges. 
At  home,  under  the  care  of  zealous  priests,  schools  were 
established,  where  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  poor  were  taught 
without  fees.  Popish  ecclesiastics,  brought  from  the  Con- 
tinent, walked  about  the  Edinburgh  streets  in  their  monkish 
dress.  Protestant  books  and  pamphlets  were  suppressed  as 
"  insulting  to  the  King's  religion."  The  highest  honoiirs  in 
the  country  were  conferred  on  men  who  had  abjured  the 
creed  and  Church  of  their  youth,  in  order  that  they  might 
insinuate  themselves  into  the  graces  of  their  bigoted 
sovereign :  James  Drummond,  the  Earl  of  Perth,  was 
Chancellor,  and  his  brother,  Lord  Melfort,  was  Secretary  of 
State.  Things  were  far  amiss  when  even  Bluidy  Mackenzie 
was  angered  into   revolt,  and  resigned  his  office  rather  than 


4IO  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

help  James  to  travel  farther  along  the  path  of  absolutism  and 
priestcraft.  By  and  by  the  first  mutterings  of  the  impending 
storm  were  heard.  The  mob  sacked  the  chapel  which  the 
Chancellor  had  fitted  up  in  his  town  house,  and  pelted  the 
Countess  with  mud;  and,  when  the  soldiers  from  the  castle 
attempted  to  disperse  the  rioters,  they  found  themselves 
greeted  with  volleys  of  stones.  The  weather  portents  could 
not  be  blacker  or  more  ominous. 

Then  momentous  tidings  came  in  from  England.  The 
seven  bishops  were  tried  for  their  refusal  to  read  the  King's 
proclamations,  and  were  acquitted;  and  Westminster  Hall 
rang  with  the  shouts  of  the  delighted  multitude.  Anglican 
and  Nonconformist  joined  hands,  Tory  and  Whig  made 
common  cause  against  the  injustice  of  the  Throne.  In  June 
1688  an  event  took  place  which  accelerated  the  crisis.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  was  born.  South  and  north  of  the  Tweed 
the  nation  understood  now  that  the  fate  of  Protestantism  was 
irrevocably  sealed,  unless  something  decisive  was  done  without 
delay.  If  a  Catholic  son  should  succeed  to  the  heritage  of  a 
Catholic  father,  there  could  be  but  one  result — the  destruction 
of  the  religious  liberties  of  the  Commonwealth.  There  was 
no  more  dallying.  The  fateful  address  was  sent  to  the  Hague, 
to  William  Henry,  Prince  of  Orange  and  Count  of  Nassau, 
stadtholder  of  the  republic  of  the  United  Provinces.  Shaftes- 
bury signed  it ;  and  Danby ;  and  Devonshire ;  and  Lord 
Lumley,  who  parted  from  James  only  because  he  loved  his 
honour  and  his  country  more  than  his  King;  and  Edward 
Eussell;  and  Henry  Sidney,  Algernon's  brother;  and 
Compton,  the  suspended  Bishop  of  London.  They  implored 
William  to  cross  the  seas  at  once,  and  to  constitute  himself 
the  deliverer  of  the  land.  The  rest  is  a  familiar  story.  How, 
in  the  first  week  of  November,  the  Dutch  fleet  rode  safely  in 
the  harbour  of  Torbay.  How  all  the  land  grew  vocal  with 
cries  of  "  No  Popery  ! "  and  "  A  Free  Parliament ! "  and  "  The 
Protestant  Religion  ! "  How,  after  one  abortive  effort  at  flight, 
James,  between  two  and  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the 
23rd  of  December,  stole  through  a  Rochester  garden  to  the 
banks  of  the  Medway,  and  boarded  a  frigate,  which   landed 


LO,  THE  WINTER  IS  PAST  411 

him  erelong  at  Ambleteuse  on  the  French  coast.  How,  after 
many  debates  over  troublesome  points  of  procedure,  William 
and  Mary  were  proclaimed  King  and  Queen  in  February  1689. 
The  Glorious  Eevolution  was  complete. 

In  Scotland  there  were  to  be  tumultuous  experiences 
before  the  reign  of  orderliness  and  quiet  was  fairly  inaugurated. 
On  the  eve  of  his  departure  from  Holland,  William  had  sent 
a  Declaration  to  the  northern  kingdom.  He  spoke  of  its 
lamentable  condition  under  the  arbitrary  rule  of  the  Stuarts, 
of  the  extravagant  privileges  extended  to  men  whose  faith  was 
abhorrent  to  the  bulk  of  the  citizens,  of  the  terrorism  exercised 
over  the  Judges,  of  the  autocratic  powers  which  had  been 
claimed  and  wielded  without  ruth  and  limit.  He  offered 
himself  to  the  Scots  as  defender  of  the  Protestantism  they 
loved,  and  of  the  civil  freedom  which  they  were  in  danger  of 
losing  outright.  The  Privy  Council  forbade  the  Declaration  to 
be  published ;  but  in  the  western  shires,  always  the  peculiar 
home  and  fortress  of  Presbytery,  it  was  widely  disseminated. 
Within  the  walls  of  many  a  cottage,  and  at  the  meetings  for 
worship,  its  terms  were  read ;  and  hearts  beat  more  quickly, 
and  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  The  men  and  women  of  the 
Covenant  knew  that  their  redemption  drew  nigh. 

By  the  end  of  the  year,  Edinburgh  was  crowded  with  the 
supporters  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  ;  and  those  who  championed 
the  discredited  King  could  make  no  headway  in  the  endeavour 
to  retrieve  his  falling  fortunes.  A  disturbance  in  the  streets 
frightened  Lord  Chancellor  Perth  into  flight ;  after  a  week  or 
two,  he  was  captured  in  the  attempt  to  escape  to  the  Continent ; 
and  for  four  years  he  lay  in  prison.  The  Catholic  chapel  at 
Holy  rood  was  demolished  ;  and  the  townsmen  and  the  train- 
bands burned  in  a  bonfire  its  ornaments  and  Popish  books  and 
paraphernalia  of  idolatry.  This  was  the  time,  too,  when  the 
"  rabbling  "  of  the  curates  went  merrily  forward  in  the  capital 
and  over  the  country. 

These  pitiful  curates  had  not  a  friend  outside  the  threshold 
of  their  own  families.  Their  methods  of  conducting  the  service 
of  God  had  not  differed  very  greatly  from  the  severe  simplicities 


412  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

of  the  Presbyterian  order ;  for  Scottish  Episcopacy  in  the 
seventeenth  century  was  devoid  of  liturgical  forms  and  of  the 
pomps  of  ceremony  and  ritual.  But  by  nine-tenths  of  the 
inhabitants,  alike  in  the  burghs  and  the  little  rural  villages, 
they  had  themselves  been  held  in  unmitigated  dislike.  They 
came  as  usurpers,  the  tools  of  a  tyrannical  system  ;  and,  being 
in  most  instances  unacquainted  with  either  learning  or  godli- 
ness, they  had  never  been  able  to  live  down  their  initial 
disadvantage.  Now  that  they  were  dismissed,  nobody  wept 
over  their  going.  And  yet,  hirelings  and  intruders  and 
"  graceless  graces "  although  they  were,  the  wish  rises  in  the 
mind  that  they  had  been  handled  with  more  forgivingness 
and  magnanimity.  No  doubt,  it  is  "  matter  of  admiration," 
as  Wodrow  says,  "  that  the  provoked  people  ran  not  to  a  far 
greater  length  "  ;  and  Patrick  Walker  marvels  much  at  his  own 
leniency  and  that  of  his  Cameronian  kinsfolk.  "  How  would 
they  tremble  and  sweat,"  he  asks  —  the  miserable  and 
obnoxious  preachers  —  "if  they  were  in  the  Grassmarket, 
going  up  the  ladder,  with  the  rope  before  them,  and  the  lad 
with  the  pyoted  coat  at  their  tail  ? "  It  is  a  pertinent 
question ;  but,  for  all  that,  the  "  rabbling "  was  a  process 
neither  dignified  nor  generous.  Some  three  hundred  were 
ejected  from  church  and  manse.  The  incumbent  was  led  to 
the  town's  Cross,  or  to  another  convenient  spot  where 
the  people  were  accustomed  to  congregate.  His  indictment 
was  solemnly  recited.  Not  the  slightest  injury  was  done  to 
his  person,  and  no  scrap  of  his  property  was  harmed,  except 
the  fringed  gown  that  he  wore — a  vestment  which  was  viewed 
with  special  aversion.  This  was  torn  from  him,  and  trampled 
ignominiously  beneath  a  hundred  protesting  feet.  The 
ceremony  finished,  the  disrobed  man  was  marched  to  the 
boundaries  of  the  parish,  and  there  cast  off  without  word  or 
look  of  pity  or  regret  or  goodwill.  Thus,  after  many  days 
and  much  provocation,  the  Earl  of  Middleton's  puppets  were, 
somewhat  rudely,  unsaddled  and  turned  adrift. 

The  "  rabblings,"  however,  did  not  terminate  the  battle. 
Fighting  on  the  graver  and  grander  scale  was  imminent.  In 
April  1689  the  Convention  in  Edinburgh  framed  the  Claim 


LO,  THE  WINTER  IS  PAST  413 

of  Eight,  declaring  that  "  King  James  the  Seventh,  being  a 
professed  Papist,"  had  "  forfaulted "  liis  royal  place,  so  that 
"  the  Throne  was  become  vacant " ;  and,  after  tlie  interval  of 
a  day,  William  and  Mary  were  proclaimed  at  the  Mercat 
Cross.  But,  some  weeks  previously,  one  man,  whose  name  has 
figured  often  in  these  pages,  had  determined  to  strike  a  resolute 
blow  on  behalf  of  the  old  order.  John  Graham  of  Claverhouse, 
whom  James  had  created  Viscount  Dundee,  finding  that  the 
city  was  no  longer  a  safe  home  for  a  partisan  with  his  past 
history  and  his  present  sympathies,  had  ridden  away  north- 
ward. He  knew  that  he  could  rely  on  the  aid  of  all  those 
Highland  clansmen  who  hated  the  Campbells  of  Argyll.  They 
clustered  round  him  in  Lochaber ;  and,  for  nearly  half  a  year, 
he  maintained  with  extraordinary  daring  and  skill  a  guerilla 
warfare  against  the  Government.  It  is  the  portion  of  his 
biography  on  which  it  is  possible  to  look  back  with  something 
akin  to  pride.  If  he  fought  for  the  cause  of  oppression,  he 
fought  with  unflagging  spirit  and  persistent  loyalty.  Of  him 
it  may  be  said,  as  was  said  of  another,  that  nothing  in  his 
life  became  him  like  the  leaving  it.  The  end,  splendid  and 
unforgotten,  came  on  the  heights  of  Killiecrankie.  On  the 
27th  of  July,  after  sunset,  his  men,  few  in  number,  half- 
starved,  weary  with  their  toilsome  campaigning,  rushed  down 
the  hillside  on  General  Mackay  and  the  King's  troops.  They 
threw  away  their  guns  as  they  ran  pellmell  to  meet  the 
bayonets  of  their  enemies.  They  broke  into  wild  and  unearthly 
cries.  They  swung  their  broadswords  and  axes  to  right  and 
left  with  terrible  effect.  The  Eoyalists  were  panic-stricken, 
and  tied.  Many  were  drowned  in  the  foaming  waters  of  the 
Garry.  Many  more  were  slaughtered.  The  rout  was  as 
thorough  as  it  could  be.  Yet  the  sorest  loss  was  with  the 
followers  of  James.  Claverhouse  had  received  his  death- 
wound  a  few  minutes  after  the  conflict  began.  A  bullet 
pierced  his  side  below  the  breastplate,  as  he  rose  in  his 
stirrups  to  wave  his  plumed  hat  and  to  cheer  his  Highlanders 
and  Irishmen  in  prospect  of  the  fray.  The  bravest  ally  of  the 
Stuarts,  and  the  prime  antagonist  of  the  Covenanters,  was 
gone. 


414  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

Three  weeks  later,  at  Dunkeld,  the  last  scenes  in  the  strife 
were  enacted.  William  Cleland,  the  young  poet  and  captain 
of  Drumclog,  had,  in  those  stirring  days  of  1689,  raised  and 
marshalled  his  regiment  of  Cameronians — men  of  character 
and  religion,  who  rejoiced  to  serve  under  such  competent 
command  for  the  wage  of  sixpence  a  day.  To  these 
Cameronians  the  task  fell  of  defending  Dunkeld  against  the 
Highland  army,  which  was  expected  to  attack  the  town  as 
it  swept  southward  on  its  victorious  progress  towards  the 
Lowlands.  It  was  an  army  flushed  into  arrogance  by  its  recent 
triumph  over  the  King's  General.  It  was  six  or  seven  times 
as  numerous  as  the  small  force  which  stood  in  its  way.  Its 
success  seemed  sure.  The  Covenanters  themselves  feared  that 
their  position  was  untenable.  They  sent  a  deputation  to 
Cleland,  suggesting  that  they  should  retreat  while  there  was 
still  the  chance  of  doing  so  without  reproach.  But  the  word 
"  retreat "  had  no  place  in  the  dictionary  of  their  captain.  "  I 
have  been  bidden  to  hold  Dunkeld,"  he  said,  "  and  for  me,  I 
shall  stay  here  although  every  man  in  the  regiment  leaves 
me."  "  We  will  never  do  that,"  they  replied ;  "  but  the 
officers  have  their  horses,  whereas  we  cannot  ride  for  it,  if  it 
should  come  to  the  worst."  Cleland  turned  to  his  orderly. 
"  Lead  out  the  horses,  and  let  them  be  shot,"  he  commanded  ; 
"  and  you  will  know  that  we  shall  stand  by  you,  if  you  stand 
by  us."  But  all  the  misgivings  had  been  dispelled.  "  No ! " 
the  men  cried — "  we  trust  our  Colonel  and  our  officers." 
The  duel  which  ensued  was  tremendous.  The  outposts  of  the 
Cameronians  were  driven  in;  but  from  dyke  to  dyke  they 
retired  in  good  order,  until  they  had  massed  themselves 
together  in  one  steadfast  phalanx.  Against  this  the 
Highlanders  charged,  with  swords  in  hand,  as  they  had  done 
at  Killiecrankie,  only  to  be  met  by  the  pikes  and  halberts  of 
their  adversaries,  and  to  be  repulsed  again  and  again.  After 
a  time  the  bullets  of  the  Covenanters  were  exhausted ;  but 
lead  was  cut  from  the  flat  roof  of  Dunkeld  House,  and  melted 
in  furrows  dug  in  the  earth,  and  the  struggle  went  on.  From 
seven  in  the  morning  until  noonday  it  raged,  and  then  the 
clansmen  abandoned  their  onslaught  and  tied  in  disorder  to 


LO,  THE  WINTER  IS  PAST  415 

the  hills,  while  the  Cameroniaus  paused  and  sang  their  loud 
thanksgiving  to  God  for  His  mighty  acts.  After  Dunkeld, 
William's  power  over  Scotland  was  uncontested  and  safe. 
But  Colonel  Cleland,  like  John  Graham,  died  in  the  smoke 
and  fever  of  the  battle.  At  an  early  point  in  the  fight  he  was 
shot  through  both  head  and  body,  as  he  went  from  post  to 
post  encouraging  his  officers  and  men.  "  Carry  me  into  the 
house  behind  us,"  he  said,  "  that  they  may  not  lose  heart  when 
they  see  how  I  am  wounded."  While  they  obeyed  his  request, 
he  breathed  his  last.  After  the  turmoil  had  sunk  into  calm  and 
the  day  was  won,  the  soldiers  who  loved  him  prepared  his 
resting-place  in  the  nave  of  the  old  cathedral,  near  the 
western  door.  There  he  lies  "  where  he  longed  to  be,"  on  the 
ground  guarded  so  manfully  against  overpowering  odds  by 
those  good  comrades  whom  he  had  trained  in  the  art  of  war. 

A  hundred  difficulties  confronted  King  William  in  his 
settlement  of  the  Scottish  Church.  If  he  was  himself  a 
Presbyterian  by  predilection  and  profession,  he  was  sur- 
rounded in  London  by  Anglican  advisers;  and  he  was  well 
aware  that,  in  spite  of  the  "  rabblings,"  many  northern  parishes 
were  occupied  still  by  the  curates.  Among  these  eddies  and 
shoals  and  contrary  tides,  it  was  a  perplexing  problem  to  know 
in  which  direction  to  pilot  the  vessel.  Some  of  the  historians 
have  insisted  that  the  King  desired  to  find  the  solution  in  the 
establishment  of  a  modified  and  carefully  guarded  Episcopacy ; 
but  we  look  in  vain  for  confirmation  of  the  statement.  The 
fatuousness  of  the  Scottish  bishops  had,  surely,  made  such  an 
issue  an  incredibility.  In  the  beginning  of  November  in  1688, 
when  the  Eevolution  was  almost  an  accomplished  fact,  thirteen 
of  them  signed  and  sent  to  James  one  of  the  most  obsequious 
and  fawning  letters  ever  penned.  They  spoke  of  him  as  "  the 
darling  of  heaven."  They  said  that  his  "  long,  illustrious,  and 
unparalleled  line  was  the  greatest  glory  of  this  ancient  realm." 
They  avowed  their  intention  of  inculcating,  more  strongly  than 
they  had  yet  done,  the  duty  of  allegiance  to  His  Majesty  as 
"  an  essential  part  of  religion."  Having  heard  rumours  of  an 
invasion  from  Holland,  they  prayed  with  impassioned  ardour 


4i6  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

that  "God  would  still  preserve  and  deliver"  their  beloved 
monarch  "  by  giving  him  the  hearts  of  his  subjects  and  the 
necks  of  his  enemies."  It  was  a  document  as  stupid  as  it  was 
servile.  It  prevented  the  prelates  from  having  any  share  in 
the  ecclesiastical  reconstruction  of  Scotland. 

Tlie  new  Church  must  be  modelled  on  the  old  Presby- 
terianism  of  John  Knox  and  Andrew  Melville  and  Alexander 
Henderson ;  but  to  get  it  done  was  no  child's  play.  In  July 
1689  the  first  step  was  taken.  Then  "a  lawful  and  free 
Parliament" — an  institution  whose  face  and  likeness  the 
nation  had  not  seen  for  years — rescinded  all  those  Acts  which 
had  maintained  that  in  the  Kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  there 
are  officers  superior  to  the  elders  or  Presbyters  of  the  New 
Testament.  The  Episcopalian  hierarchy  was  stamped  with 
disapproval  and  was  robbed  of  its  diadem.  In  the  succeeding 
April,  when  the  Parliament  entered  on  its  second  session,  other 
notable  decisions  followed.  Those  Covenanting  ministers  who 
had  been  ejected,  when  Charles  and  his  councillors  upset 
everything  which  Scotsmen  counted  dear,  were  restored 
to  the  parishes  they  had  known  and  taught  and  yearned 
over  in  the  older  and  better  era.  Not  more  than  sixty 
of  them  survived ;  and  who  will  say  with  what  thoughts, 
lying  too  deep  for  tears,  the  sixty  wind-beaten  men  went 
back  to  the  scenes  where  the  ministries  of  their  youth  had 
been  fulfilled  ?  At  the  same  time  the  fines  and  forfeitures 
imposed  during  the  persecution  were  cancelled;  and  the 
decrees  passed  against  Conventicles,  with  the  tests  and  oaths 
and  penalties  of  eight-and-twenty  bitter  years,  were  repealed. 
It  was  as  when  the  tossing  billows  of  a  protracted  storm  sub- 
side at  last,  and  again  the  sailors  can  breathe  freely;  or  as 
when  the  dawn  of  an  Emancipation  Day  releases  the  serfs 
whose  vassalage  has  been  long-continued  and  humiliating ;  or 
as  when  the  hero  Beowulf  slew  the  Grendel  with  his  own  hand- 
grip, and  the  helpless  lands  of  Hrothgar  awoke  to  a  happiness 
as  strange  as  it  was  blessed. 

The  midsummer  of  1690  brought  the  most  significant 
enactment  of  all.  On  the  7th  of  June  it  received  the 
imprimatur   of    Parliament.      It   provided   for   the   perpetual 


nwm^\Hin)i>ijimi)iiii»)ii)iinii'.  •  -         „^a 


^^=5"-.  0-5^5:^' 


.S^ 


THE   CROSS   OF   EDINBURGH. 


LO,  THE  WINTER  IS  PAST  417 

corroboration  of  all  laws  "  made  against  Popery  and  Papists, 
and  for  the  maintenance  of  the  reformed  Protestant  religion." 
It  ratified  "  the  Confession  of  Faith  as  the  public  and  avowed 
Confession  of  this  Church."     It  established  "  the  Presbyterian 
church  government  and  discipline,"  as  these  had  been  set  up 
in  1592 ;  for  were  they  not  "  agreeable  to  the  Word  of  God 
and   most   conducive   to   the  advancement  of  true  piety  and 
godliness "  ?     And   it   appointed   "  the   first   meeting    of    the 
General  Assembly  to  be  at  Edinburgh,  the  third  Thursday  of 
October  next  to  come."     In  this  great  statute  the  thirty-three 
chapters  of  the  Westminster  Confession  were  printed  in  full, 
and  so  the  theological  fiats  of  the  Jerusalem  Chamber  form  to 
this  hour  an  integral  portion  of  the  law-book  of  the  Scottish 
nation.     Little   remained   to  be  added  when  things  had  pro- 
ceeded  thus   far.     In   the    middle    of    July,    patronage    was 
abolished ;  and,  if  to  the  heritors  and  elders  there  was  con- 
ceded  the   right   to  propose  the  fitting  minister  to  a  vacant 
congregation,   the   parishioners   themselves   kept    the    power 
either  to  accept  him  or  to  refuse.     The  Kirk  had  risen  from 
the   dust,   and   was   robing   herself   afresh   in    her    beautiful 
garments. 

Much  has  been  written  both  for  and  against  the  Eevolution 
Settlement.  It  certainly  was  not  perfect.  The  mailed  hand 
of  the  State  was  by  far  too  prominent.  King  and  legislature 
planned  all,  decided  all,  confirmed  and  approved  all ;  and  the 
Church  had  scanty  opportunity  of  making  her  voice  heard ;  to 
a  large  extent  she  was  treated  as  a  negligible  quantity.  Some 
of  the  concessions,  too,  were  granted  reluctantly  and  with  bad 
grace.  William,  while  he  wrought  an  urgent  and  marvellous 
deliverance  for  Britain,  was  not  a  man  to  kindle  the  white 
heat  of  enthusiasm  and  the  red  glow  of  affection.  He  was 
reserved  and  austere ;  and  it  was  only  in  the  moment  of  battle 
and  the  crisis  of  danger,  as  Macaulay  tells  us,  that  the  coldness 
thawed  and  his  nature  took  fire.  Many  a  gracious  boon  he 
spoiled  by  the  grudging  manner  of  its  bestowment.  A  more 
fundamental  defect  still,  in  the  eyes  of  those  Covenanters  whose 
consistency  was  undeviating  and  firm,  was  that  the  Settlement 
ignored  some  of  the  most  memorable  attainments  of  the  past 
27 


4i8  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

It  did  not  revoke  the  Act  Eescissory,  by  which  the  Drunken 
Parliament  had  erased  in  a  trice  much  that  was  brightest 
and  worthiest  in  the  Church's  record  of  achievement ;  it  left 
the  wicked  decree  untouched,  For  this  reason  mainly,  the 
Camerouians  deliberately  elected  to  stand  outside  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  Eevolution  period.  Three  of  their  preachers, 
Alexander  Shields  being  the  most  famous,  did  find  a  home 
within  its  bounds ;  but  only  three.  The  inflexible  majority, 
true  to  themselves  and  hating  all  paltering  and  accommoda- 
tion, refused  to  countenance  arrangements  which  were  not  the 
highest  but  merely  the  next  to  the  highest.  Thankful  as 
their  inexorable  souls  were  when  "  the  new  sun  rose  bringing 
the  new  year,"  they  recognised  with  sadness  that  even  this 
nobler  and  joyfuller  epoch  was  not  that  accejitablc  Year  of  the 
Lord  for  which  they  had  prayed  and  bled. 

But,  if  the  Settlement  had  unmistakable  shortcomings,  it 
was  the  parent  of  abundant  good.  It  put  an  end  to  the  pains 
and  wrongs  of  persecution.  It  gave  the  people  of  Scotland 
the  Church  for  which  they  cherished  an  ineradicable  love, 
and  the  ministers  whose  enforced  absence  and  silence  they  had 
mourned.  It  ushered  in  the  gladder  age  which  still  runs  its 
course,  when  conscience  is  freed  from  the  hateful  dictation  of 
palaces  and  consistories  and  unjust  Courts  of  Justice,  when 
national  and  religious  despotisms  are  clothed  with  merited 
dishonour,  and  when  men  and  women  dwell  in  a  spacious  room. 
The  disciples  of  Eichard  Cameron  and  Donald  Cargill  and 
James  Eenwick,  if  they  would  fain  have  had  the  enfranchised 
State  and  the  comforted  Church  permeated  by  a  still  diviner 
atmosphere,  were  to  a  great  degree  the  human  architects  of 
those  liberties  which  the  country  welcomed  with  overflowing 
gratitude,  and  in  which  she  read  the  promise  of  a  stable  and 
prosperous  future.  They  might  be  disappointed,  as  all  knights 
and  votaries  of  the  ideal  are  disappointed.  But  tens  of 
thousands  reaped  the  bountiful  harvest  of  the  seed  they  sowed 
in  a  wild  and  stormy  spring,  and  praised  God  for  the  valleys 
covered  over  with  corn. 


EPILOGUE. 

THE  GENERAL  ASSEMBLY  MEETS  AGAIN. 

THE  Parliament  of  1690  had  invited  the  General  Assembly 
of  the  Church  to  meet  once  more ;  and,  on  the  16th  of 
October,  the  invitation  was  obeyed.  Thirty-seven  years  had 
come  and  gone  since  Cromwell  dispersed  the  last  gathering  of 
Presbyterian  ministers  and  elders — years  crowded  with  labours 
and  sacrifices  and  griefs.  As  the  members  took  their  places 
in  the  old  Assembly  Aisle  of  St.  Giles's  Church,  what  visions 
they  saw  !  what  battles  they  fought  anew  !  what  scaffolds  rose, 
stark  and  yet  glorious,  before  the  eyes  of  the  mind !  They 
could  not  forget  that  they  had  travelled  to  their  inheritance 
out  of  the  house  of  bondage  and  through  a  land  of  pits  and 
snares.  It  was  natural  and  right  that  they  should  give  their 
earliest  sessions  to  the  exercises  of  solemn  fasting  and  prayer, 
to  meditation  on  the  words  and  ways  of  God,  and  to  adoring 
praise  of  Him  who  had  led  them  so  wondrously  to  the  city  of 
habitation. 

Lord  John  Carmichael  was  the  Commissioner  of  the  King 
— a  man  prudent,  intelligent,  of  quiet  and  equable  temper. 
There  were  present,  Principal  Eule  says,  one  hundred  and 
sixteen  ministers  and  forty-seven  ruling  elders.  "¥ot  the 
age,  piety,  learning,  and  gravity  of  the  members,"  writes  one 
who  had  his  seat  in  the  Assembly  Aisle,  "it  is  much  to  be 
doubted  if  they  were  not  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  any  convoca- 
tion of  churchmen  that  ever  were  in  Britain  in  our  day."  Men 
were  there  who  had  carried  gun  and  sword  at  Kullion  Green 
and  Bothwell  Bridge ;  men  who  bore  branded  on  their  bodies 
the  marks  of  the  rack  and  the  thumbscrew,  and  who  could 
tell  of  the  horrors  of  Dunnottar  and  the  Bass  ;  men  on  whose 


420  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

heads  the  Government  of  Charles  and  James  had  set  a  price, 
and  who  had  been  laid  under  the  ban  of  intercommiming,  so 
that  it  was  a  capital  offence  to  let  them  have  a  morsel  of  food 
or  to  hide  them  from  their  pursuers.  There  was  pathos  in  the 
meeting  of  these"  veterans  of  the  faith,  whose  hair  was  grey 
and  whose  cheeks  were  furrowed.  Yet  there  was  much 
cheerfulness  too.  An  old  legend  relates  that  Lazarus  never 
smiled  after  he  left  his  charnel-cave  and  returned  to  Mary's 
house ;  but,  although  they  had  passed  through  seven  deaths, 
the  Covenanters  had  not  forgotten  how  to  smile.  Like  the 
Little  Brothers  of  Assisi,  they  were  the  merry  men  of  the 
Lord. 

Hugh  Kennedy  was  chosen  their  Moderator.  He  was  a 
Protester  of  the  antique  type,  an  early  discijjle,  as  was  Mnason 
of  Cyprus,  the  host  in  Cpesarea  of  St.  Paul.  Not  one  of  the 
others  who  did  not  respect  him  for  his  saintly  character  and 
his  well-tried  attachment  to  the  Kirk.  He  had  been  so 
keenly  opposed  to  Prelacy  that  the  Malignants  nicknamed 
him  "  Bitter  Beard."  But  they  mistook  the  man  altogether. 
His  brethren  assure  us  that  his  disposition  was  gentle  and 
sweet  and  helpful,  and  that  he  brimmed  over  with  pleasantry 
and  good  humour. 

It  was  his  nature 
To  blossom  into  song,  as  'tis  a  tree's 
To  leaf  itself  in  April. 

Round  the  Moderator  some  ministers  are  grouped,  who 
have  been  with  him  in  the  crucible  of  affliction.  One  is  old 
Gabriel  Sempill  of  Jedburgh.  He  assisted  when  the  Covenants 
were  renewed  at  the  Town  Hall  of  Lanark,  in  those  wintry 
days  of  1666  which  saw  the  insurgents  on  their  road  to  defeat 
at  Pentland.  He  is,  we  remember,  a  gentleman  by  birth, 
being  the  son  of  Sir  Bryce  and  the  grandson  of  Lord  Sempill. 
Often  he  has  been  the  comrade  of  John  Welsh  and  John 
Blaekader  in  their  adventures  and  deliverances  and  field- 
preachings  ;  but,  whilst  they  have  gone  to  be  with  Christ  in 
the  upper  sanctuary,  he  has  escaped  his  perils  "  with  the  skin 
of  his  teeth,"  and  is  eager  to  do  his  part  in  rebuilding  the 
desolated  and  ruined  Church.     "Eminently  countenanced  of 


EPILOGUE  421 

God  with  success  in  the  work  of  the  Gospel "  Gahriel  Sempill 
has  been ;  and  he  stands  in  tlie  Assembly  of  1690  with  a 
vigour  so  unimpaired  that  Thomas  Boston,  when  he  hears  him 
speak  in  a  yet  later  year,  is  compelled  to  marvel.  "  I  was  in  a 
manner  amazed,"  the  listener  confesses,  "  for  his  words  went 
out  through  me  and  in  through  me,  so  that  I  said  in  my 
heart,  Happy  are  those  that  hear  thy  wisdom ! "  The  Con- 
vcnticler's  natural  and  supernatural  force  is  not  abated. 

William  Veitch  sits  not  far  away,  the  husband  of  heavenly- 
hearted  Marion  Veitch,  and  the  friend  who  did  his  utmost  for 
the  Earl  of  Argyll.  And,  beside  him,  is  his  chief  companion, 
Gilbert  Elliot,  who  will  be  Lord  Minto  by  and  by  and  a 
Judge  on  the  Edinburgh  bench.  Once,  when  he  was  a  young 
advocate,  Elliot  contrived  to  bring  about  Veitch's  acquittal 
and  to  save  his  life.  "  Ah,  Willie,  Willie ! "  he  whispers  to 
him  now,  "  had  it  no'  been  for  me,  the  pyets  had  been  pyking 
your  pate  on  the  Netherbow  Port ! "  But  the  shrewd  minister 
has  his  retort  ready.  "  Ah,  Gibbie,  Gibbie  !  had  it  no'  been  for 
me,  ye  would  have  been  writing  papers  yet  for  a  plack  the 
page ! "  These  are  the  quips  and  jests  which  enliven  the 
Assembly's  serious  toil. 

There,  too,  one  can  look  up  into  the  serene  face  of  a  man 
most  gracious,  whose  name  alone  might  fill  St.  Giles's  Church 
with  odours  of  spikenard — devout  and  apostolic  Thomas  Hog 
of  Kiltearn.  We  have  not  forgotten  how,  on  the  Bass,  Arch- 
bishop Sharp  was  his  good  physician  ;  but,  indeed,  nothing  and 
no  one  could  hurt  Thomas  Hog,  for  his  life  was  hid  with  Christ 
in  God.  He  spent  whole  nights  in  prayer ;  and  to  this  day 
his  sanctity  is  recalled  in  the  north  country,  by  those  who 
love  to  meditate  on  the  years  of  the  right  hand  of  the  Most 
High.  Four  summers  before  the  Eevolution  took  place,  he 
predicted  that  the  change  was  certain  to  come,  sending  this 
message  to  the  Prince  of  Orange  out  of  the  distresses  of  the 
Killing  Time :  "  Tell  him  that  I  have  assurance  of  the  Lord 
that,  though  the  Church  of  Scotland  is  under  a  dark  cloud 
now,  yet  it  will  be  over  quickly,  and  that  he  shall  be  the 
instrument  of  her  enlarging  and  shall  be  King  of  these  realms." 
Now  his  prophecy  was  realised,  and  his  joy  was  full.     The 


422  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

fidelity  of  the  martyr  accompanied  him  to  the  ending  of 
his  pilgrimage.  He  ordered  his  grave  to  be  dug  on  the 
threshold  of  his  Highland  church,  and  on  the  tombstone  he 
bade  them  write  the  admonition :  "  This  stone  shall  bear 
witness  against  the  parishioners  of  Kiltearn,  if  they  bring  ane 
ungodly  minister  in  here."  The  mightiest  transports  moved 
and  thrilled  Thomas  Hog. 

A  true  spiritual  brother  of  the  saint  was  Henry  Erskine ; 
and  he  also  was  a  participant  in  the  debates  and  verdicts  of  the 
Assembly.  Forty-five  years  later  all  Scotland  would  be  ringing 
with  the  words  and  deeds  of  his  sons,  Ebenezer  and  Ealph. 
To  his  preaching,  too,  Boston,  "  whose  golden  pen  to  future 
times  will  bear  his  name,"  ascribed,  under  God,  the  awakening 
of  the  new  life  in  his  soul.  But  Henry  Erskine  is  worth 
knowing  for  his  own  sake.  He  had  a  great  fortitude.  When 
he  stood  before  the  Privy  Council  with  the  instruments  of 
torture  fastened  on  his  hands.  Sir  George  Mackenzie  ordered 
him  to  preach  no  more  at  the  meetings  in  the  fields.  But  he 
would  not  be  browbeaten.  "My  lord,"  he  replied,  "I  have 
my  commission  from  Christ,  and,  though  I  were  within  an 
hour  of  my  death,  I  durst  not  lay  it  down  at  the  feet  of  any 
mortal  man."  There  spoke  the  stout  confessor  who  feared  his 
unseen  Master  so  much  that  he  felt  no  meaner  fear.  And  he 
had  a  childlike  faith.  Once,  in  the  cottage  at  Dryburgh,  the 
meagre  stock  of  provisions  was  consumed  at  supper-time,  and 
in  the  night  the  children  awoke  crying  for  bread.  Their  father 
had  none  to  give  them,  but  he  trusted  the  better  Father  to 
send  the  supply.  So  meanwhile  he  took  down  his  gittern,  and 
played  to  the  bairns,  and  comforted  their  mother  with  the 
promises  of  God.  And  erelong  someone  knocked  peremptorily 
at  the  door,  and  a  stranger  on  horseback  left  a  bag  stocked 
with  food,  and  became  surly  when  he  was  asked  who  he  was 
and  from  which  quarter  he  had  come,  and  rode  immediately 
away  into  the  dark.  Above  Henry  Erskine's  head,  let  the 
weather  be  fair  or  foul  to  his  neighbours,  the  sky  was  always 
blue.  In  his  heart,  every  month  of  the  twelve,  the  birds  sang, 
and  the  flowers  bloomed,  and  the  river  of  the  water  of  life 
made  happy  music. 


EPILOGUE  423 

These  men  of  the  Covenant  were  saints,  "  first  and  last  and 
midst  and  without  end."  But  there  were  members  of  Assembly 
somewhat  different  in  their  temperament,  more  politic  and 
more  courtly :  Dr.  Gilbert  Rule,  for  example,  the  Principal  of 
the  University  of  Edinburgh,  who  was  to  distinguish  himself 
in  after  years  by  his  writings  in  defence  of  Presbytery ;  and 
David  Blair,  minister  of  the  Old  Church,  pon  of  the  famous 
Eesolutioner  of  St.  Andrews  and  parent  of  the  poet  of  The 
Grave.  Eule's  spirituality  and  Blair's  was,  no  doubt,  genuine ; 
and  yet  it  was  not  of  that  masterful  and  illimitable  and 
unearthly  sort  which  invested  Hog  and  Erskine  with  the 
fragrance  and  the  glory  of  the  sons  of  God.  There  were 
threads  of  attachment  which  bound  them  tightly  to  the  world 
of  the  seen  and  temporal. 

The  prince  of  this  party,  who  was  in  constant  attendance 
at  the  sitting  in  St.  Giles,  though  he  represented  the  Court 
in  London  rather  than  any  congregation  or  Presbytery  in 
Scotland,  was  William  Carstares.  "  He  surely,"  says  a  eulogist 
in  the  Coltness  Collection,  "  was  one  of  the  greatest  clergymen 
who  ever  embellished  any  church."  And  so,  beyond  question, 
he  was.  But  the  greatness  is  not  altogether  of  the  ethereal 
kind.  The  diplomatist  was  blended  in  Carstares  with  the 
disciple,  the  statesman  with  the  Christian.  His  was  a  potent 
voice  in  Parliament,  although  he  never  sat  in  the  legislative 
chamber.  His  was  a  prevailing  and  unceasing  influence  with 
the  King,  although  he  wore  the  Geneva  gown  of  an  unpretend- 
ing preacher.  His  father,  John  Carstares,  had  shown  him  a 
rare  example  of  lifelong  faithfulness,  and  he  had  himself 
undergone  the  agony  of  the  thumbkins.  But  he  was  of  a 
more  modern  school  than  the  old  Covenanter.  The  virtues  of 
the  resourceful  man  of  affairs  were  united  in  his  nature  with 
those  of  the  servant  of  Christ :  courage  and  address,  sagacity 
and  wit  and  caution,  patience  and  conciliatoriness  and  charity, 
moderation  and  tolerance.  Many  different  estimates  of  him 
have  been  bequeathed  to  us  by  his  contemporaries.  "  He  is  the 
cunningest  dissembler  in  the  world,  with  an  air  of  sincerity,"  his 
ecclesiastical  and  political  antagonists  maintained.  "  Through 
all   the    vicissitudes   of    fortune,"    his    friends    replied,    "  he 


424  MEN  OF  THE  COVENANT 

preserved  the  same  humble  spirit  and  simple  worth,  the  same 
zealous  piety,  the  same  amiable  and  affectionate  heart."  "  I 
have  known  him  long,"  King  William  declared  with  a  warmth 
which  he  did  not  often  manifest,  "  I  know  him  thoroughly,  and 
I  know  him  to  be  a  truly  honest  man."  One  approaches  a 
personality  that  bulks  largely  in  the  public  view  from  the 
angle  of  hostility,  or  from  the  angle  of  reverence,  or  from  the 
angle  of  intimate  and  brotherly  fellowship,  and  how  diverse 
the  personality  seems !  It  is  a  tribute  to  Carstares's  real 
magnitude  that  he  moved  men  to  feelings  so  various  and 
contradictory ;  a  lesser  soul  would  not  have  appeared  so 
kaleidoscopic.  And,  doubtless,  there  were  elements  of  truth 
in  all  the  portraitures. 

He  could  do  fearless  things.  On  one  occasion  he  risked 
the  loss  not  only  of  his  master's  favour  but  of  his  own  head. 
In  1694  the  King  wished  to  impose  on  the  Church  in  Scotland 
terms  which  her  members  could  not  have  subscribed  without 
forfeiting  every  shred  of  their  spiritual  independence.  He 
said  that,  if  they  refused  to  obey  his  orders,  the  General 
Assembly  of  that  year  must  be  dissolved.  Either  issue — that 
of  submission  or  that  of  resistance — meant  the  downfall  of 
Presbyterianism.  Carstares  did  not  hesitate.  It  was  late  at 
night  when  he  heard  the  character  of  the  despatches  which 
William  was  sending  to  his  Commissioner  in  Edinburgh.  At 
once  he  hastened  to  the  messenger,  just  setting  out  on  his 
journey,  and  in  His  Majesty's  name  required  him  to  deliver  up 
the  royal  letters.  It  was  done.  Then  he  hurried  to  the  King's 
apartments.  William  was  asleep.  He  awoke  him.  He  told  his 
astonished  sovereign  that  he  had  come,  at  this  untimely  season 
and  with  such  temerity,  to  beg  for  his  own  life.  "  Of  what 
crime,"  William  asked, "  have  you  been  guilty  that  you  deserve 
to  die  ? "  He  produced  the  despatches.  At  first  the  King 
frowned  and  fumed ;  but  Carstares  craved  the  privilege  of  an 
interview.  Before  it  was  over,  William  acknowledged  his  error, 
and  bade  his  monitor  throw  the  fatal  letters  into  the  fire. 

And  he  could  do  things  most  kindly  and  chivalrous.  There 
is  a  story  narrated  by  his  first  biographer,  which  helps  us 
to    understand   how   thoughtful   he   was   and   how   generous. 


WILLIAM   CARSTARES. 


EPILOGUE  425 

Among  the  ejected  curates  there  was  none  more  scurrilous  in 
his  denunciation  of  Presbytery  than  Robert  Caldcr.  One  day 
this  accuser  of  the  brethren  visited  Carstares,  and  the  leader 
of  the  Church  noticed  that  his  clothes  were  worn  until  they 
were  threadbare.  He  surveyed  him  narrowly  from  head  to 
foot,  and,  as  he  went  out,  asked  him  to  return  two  days 
afterwards.  No  sooner  had  he  left  than  Carstares  sent  for 
his  own  tailor,  "  and  desired  him  to  make  a  suit  of  clothes  that 
would  answer  himself  as  to  length  but  not  so  wide  by  two  or 
three  inches."  They  must  be  ready  by  the  hour  when  the 
curate  was  expected  to  reappear.  Calder  came  back,  to  find 
his  host  scolding  the  tailor  in  angry  terms  for  mistaking  his 
measure.  It  was  impossible,  he  cried,  and  his  visitor  was 
compelled  to  acquiesce,  that  ever  he  could  wear  clothes  so 
lacking  in  proportion  and  grace.  " '  Then,'  says  he,  '  they  are 
lost  if  they  don't  fit  some  of  my  friends ;  and  by  the  bye,'  adds 
he,  '  I  am  not  sure  but  they  may  answer  you :  be  so  good  as  to 
try,  for  it  is  a  pity  they  should  be  thrown  away.'  "  After  some 
persuasion  the  guest  complied,  and  discovered,  to  his  surprise, 
that  they  fitted  as  if  they  had  been  made  for  him ;  and  there- 
upon Carstares  ordered  the  clothes  to  be  packed  up  and  sent 
to  the  poor  man's  lodging.  And  this  was  not  all ;  for  into  one 
of  the  pockets  he  slipped  a  ten-pound  note,  and  when  the 
curate  wanted  to  restore  it,  "  By  no  means,  Calder,"  he  pro- 
tested ;  "  it  cannot  belong  to  me ;  for,  when  you  got  the  coat, 
you  acquired  a  right  to  everything  in  it."  It  is  seldom  that 
the  coals  of  fire  are  heaped  so  cleverly  and  so  unselfishly  on 
the  head  of  an  enemy. 

When  we  recall  such  incidents  as  these,  we  do  not  feel 
very  sorry  that,  in  the  Assembly  of  1690  and  its  immediate 
successors,  the  authority  of  William  Carstares  was  paramount. 
If  there  was  no  small  infusion  of  worldly  wisdom  in  his 
scheming,  active,  capacious  soul,  there  were  sublimer  qualities 
too.  This  man,  also,  was  "  nigh  to  heaven  and  loved  of 
loftiest  stars." 

Under  the  high  crown  of  old  St.  Giles  we  may  leave  the 
fathers  of   the  Scottish   Church,  as  they  busy  themselves  in 


426  MEN  OF  tHE  COVENANT 

deliberation  over  the  concerns  of  the  goodly  heritage  which  has 
been  restored  to  them.  They  have  been  conducted  from  mid- 
night darkness  and  trouble  into  a  region  of  light  and  peace ; 
hiems  dbiit  moestaque  crux.  In  their  hearts  and  on  their  lips 
are  the  expressive  sentences  of  the  Jewish  singer,  whose 
Babylonian  captivity  is  past  and  gone — 

If  it  had  not  been  the  Lord  icho  vxis  on  ovr  side, 

Let  Israel  now  say  ; 

If  it  had  not  been  the  Lord  ivho  vjas  on  our  side, 

When  men  rose  up  against  us  : 

Then  they  had  sivallowcd  lis  2ip  alive, 

When  their  wrath  was  kindled  against  us  : 

Then  the  waters  had  overwhelmed  us, 

The  stream  had  gone  over  otir  soul  : 

Then  the  proud  waters  had  gone  over  our  soul. 

Blessed  he  the  Lord, 

Who  hath  not  given  us  as  a  in-ey  to  their  teeth. 

Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fowlers : 

The  snare  is  broken,  and  %ve  are  escaped. 

Our  help  is  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 

iVho  made  heaven  and  earth. 


INDEX 


Aberdeen.     Refuses  to  sign  the  Cove- 
nant,  5.     Rutherfurcl's  imprison- 
ment, 52. 
Accommodation,  The,  184. 
Acts  against  the  Covenanters  : 
The  Rescissory  Act,  46. 
Middleton's  Glasgow  Act,  92. 
The  Bishops'  Drag  Net,  94. 
The  Scots  Mile  Act,  94. 
The  Act  against  Conventicles,  168. 
The  Cess,  234. 
The  Test,  293. 

The   Act    against    the   Apologetic al 
Declaration,  315. 
Airy,  Dr.  Osmund,  On  the  character  of : 
Charles  li.,  35  ; 
James  Sharp,  81  ; 
Lauderdale,  154. 
Alison,  Isabel.     Her  trial  and  death, 

359-362. 
Allegiance,  The  Oath  of.     Passed  by 

the  Drunken  Parliament,  45. 
Aiialecta,  The.     See  Wodrow,  Robert. 
Ancrum.     The   scene  of    Livingston's 

ministry,  97. 
Annandale.     Richard  Cameron  in,  268. 
Anwoth.     Rutherfurd's  ministry  there, 

51. 
Apologetical  Declaration,  The,  315. 
Argyll,  Archibald  Campbell,  the 
eighth  Earl  and  first  Marquis  of. 
His  rivalry  with  Montrose,  16. 
At  the  Coronation  of  Charles  ii., 
19.  The  complexity  of  his 
character,  59.  Not  a  soldier,  60. 
His  political  career,  60.  His 
piety,  62.  His  championship  of 
the  Covenanters,  63.  Appre- 
hended in  London,  64.  Trial  in 
Edinburgh,  64,  65.  His  last 
hours,  66-68. 


Argyll,  The  ninth  Earl  of.  His  ex- 
plication of  the  Test,  imprison- 
ment, and  escape,  293.  In 
Holland,  295.  His  ex]iodition  to 
Scotland,  352.  Capture  and 
death,  354,  355. 

Argyll,  The  Countess  of.  See  Lady 
Balcarrcs. 

Arnot,  Rachel,  Lord  Wariston's 
grandmother,  107. 

Ayr.  Covenanters  executed  there  after 
the  Pentland  Rising,  139. 

Ayrsmoss,  The  light  at,  274. 

Aytoun,  Professor.  Discredits  the 
story  of  John  Brown,  328. 

Baillie,  Robert,  minister  of  Kilwin- 
ning  and   Principal    of   Glasgow 
University.       His      Letters     and 
Journals  quoted  in  regard  to  : 
The  fatuity  of  Charles  i.  and  Laud, 

2; 

The  Glasgow  Assembly,  7  ; 

The  character  of  Charles  ir.,  21  ; 

The  pulpit  style  of  the  Protesters, 
25; 

The  "wracked  nobilitie,"  41  ; 

Rutherfurd     in     the     Westminster 
Assembly,  53  ; 

Cromwell  and  the  Covenanters,  75  ; 

Sharp  as  Church  politician,  84  ; 

Sharp's  betrayal  of  the  Church,  88  ; 

The  army  on  Duns  Law,  110  ; 

His    satisfaction   with    Lauderdale, 
154; 

And  sore  disappointment,  157. 
Baillie,  Robert,  of  Jcrviswood.  Anxious 
for  a  revolution,  295.  His  character 
and  Christianity,  297.  His  public 
spirit,  298.  His  imprisonment, 
299.     Implicated    in    movements 


428 


INDEX 


against  the  Governraent,  300. 
His  trial  and  execution,  300-304. 

Baillie,  Lady  Grissel.  How  slie  met 
her  future  husband,  370.  Her 
protection  of  lier  father,  370,  371. 
In  Holland,  372. 

Balbegno,  The  laird .  of,  and  Lord 
Middleton,  43. 

Balcarres,  Lady.  Her  nobility,  362. 
Death  of  her  first  husband,  363. 
Her  children,  364.  Marriage  to 
the  Earl  of  Argyll,  365. 

Balfour,  John,  of  Kinloch,  or  Burley. 
His  share  in  Archbishop  Sharp's 
death,  222-227.  At  Druniclog, 
239. 

Ballantyne,  Sir  William.  His  banish- 
ment and  death,  160. 

Banishments  of  the  Covenanters,  The, 
321. 

Bass  Rock,  The.  Mitchell's  imprison- 
ment, 220.  Peden's,  .380.  A  Cove- 
nanting prison,  391-394. 

Bates,  Dr.     Bleeds  Lord  Wariston,  114. 

Baxter,  Richard.  His  expostulation 
with  Lauderdale,  158,  264.  His 
praise  of  Lady  Balcarres,  363. 
Quoted,   405. 

Beath,  The  Hill  of,  near  Dunfermline. 
A  famous  conventicle  there,  177. 

Beattie,  James.  Quoted  of  Sir  George 
Mackenzie,  230. 

Bell,  John.  Put  to  death  by  Sir 
Robert  Grierson,  319. 

Bennet,  David.  Colleague  of  James 
Guthrie  in  Stirling,  74. 

Binning,  Hew.  A  Protester,  25.  His 
sermons  quoted,  26. 

Blackader,  John.  Of  gentle  birth, 
170.  Minister  of  Troqueer,  171. 
Ejected,  172.  Turner's  soldiers 
in  search  of  him,  175.  A  field- 
preacher,  176.  His  description  of 
a  Communion  in  the  open  air,  179. 
His  capture,  181.  Imprisonment 
on  the  Bass  Rock,  and  death,  393. 

Bladnoch,  The.  The  stream  where  the 
Wigtown  Martyrs  died,  344. 

Blair,  Robert.  One  of  the  Resolu- 
tiouers,  25.  Livingston's  esti- 
mate of  him,  105.  The  English 
merchant's  account  of  his  preach- 
ing, 192. 

Blair,  David,  son  of  the  above.  At 
tlie  General  Assembly  of  1690, 
423. 

I'.link,  The,  160  etaeq. 

Boot,  The  torture  of  the,  146,  300. 


Boston,  Thomas.  Quoted,  313.  On 
Gabriel  Sempill,  421.  OSves  his 
conversion  to  Henry  Erskine,  422. 

Boswells,  The,  of  Auchinleck.  The 
friends  of  Peden,  375,  385. 

Bothwell  Bridge,  The  battle  of.  The 
debates  beforehand,  246-248. 
The  defeat,  249.  The  sequel,  251. 
Alexander  Brodie's  perplexities, 
261. 

Brodie,  Alexander,  of  Brodie.  At  the 
Hague,  101,  254.  His  reputation, 
253.  The  intensity  of  his  affec- 
tions, 254.  His  intellect,  255. 
His  godliness,  256.  His  re- 
monstrances with  Leighton,  257. 
But  his  vacillations  and  timidities, 
258-262. 

Brown,  John,  of  Wamphray.  In 
Holland,  145,  Richard  Cameron 
with  him,  269. 

Brown,  John,  of  Priesthill.  Aytoun's 
scepticism  with  reference  to  his 
murder,  328.  Claverhouse's  ac- 
count of  his  death,  329.  His 
nephew,  329,  330.  His  marriage, 
331.  His  martyrdom,  332-334. 
Peden's  testimony,   335. 

Brown,  Jean,  "in  the  Cummerhead," 
334. 

Brown,  Dr.  John.  On  the  Enterkin, 
308.  On  the  hills  of  Tweed  and 
Yarrow,  374. 

Brown,  Professor  Hume.  His  tribute 
to  the  Marquis  of  Argyll,  62.  His 
estimate  of  the  numbers  of 
Covenanters  at  Druniclog,  240. 

Brown,  T.  E.     Old  John  quoted,  348. 

Browning,  Robert.  Quoted,  212,  255, 
289. 

Bruce,  Robert,  105,  107. 

Bruce,  of  Earlshall.  Attacks  Cameron 
at  Ayrsmoss,  274.  Shoots  Thomas 
M'Haflie,  318. 

Bruce,  Thomas.  His  account  of  the 
death  of  Charles  ii.,  312. 

Brysson,  George.  His  conversion,  349. 
His  adventures,  350-352.  In  the 
Earl  of  Argyll's  expedition,  352- 
357.     Subsequent  life,  357. 

Bunyan,  John.  Quoted,  70,  79.  His 
conversion,  288. 

Burley,  Lord.  Pleads  for  Samuel 
Rutherfurd,  51. 

Burnet,  Alexander,  Archbishop  of 
Glasgow.  An  opponent  of 
Lauderdale,  152.  Is  compelled 
to  resign,   163. 


INDEX 


429 


Burnet,  Gilbert   Bishop.     The  History 

of  My  Own  Times  quoted,  of: 
The  appearance  of  Charles  11.,  32  ; 
The  drunkenness  of  the  Restoration, 

43  ; 
The  Glasgow  Act,  92  ; 
The  curates,  93  ; 

The  appearance  of  Lauderdale,  155  ; 
The  character  of  Leighton,  185,  and 

his  death,  190  ; 
The  cruelty  of  the   Duke  of  York, 

294; 
The    death     of    Algernon    Sidney, 

297; 
The  character  of  Baillie  of  Jervis- 

wood,  297. 
Burns,    Robert.       His   eulogy   of  the 

Solemn  League,  10. 
Burton,    Robert.       The    Anatoriiy   of 

Melancholy  quoted,  236. 
Burton,  Dr.  J.  Hill :     On— 
Claverhouse's  grammar,  232  ; 
The  number  of  Covenanters  at  Drum- 
clog,  239  ; 
The  character  of  Sir  Robert  Hamilton, 

246. 

Calvinism.  The  faith  of  the  Cove- 
nanters, 202. 

Cameron,  Sir  Ewan.  In  praise  of 
Claverhouse's  culture,  232. 

Cameron,  Richard.  His  last  sermon, 
206.  One  of  the  stalwarts,  266. 
How  he  became  a  Covenanter,  267. 
His  license,  267.  His  outspoken- 
ness, 268.  In  Holland,  269.  A 
field-preacher,  270.  The  Sanqu- 
har Declaration,  271.  The  fight 
at  Ayrsmoss,  274. 

Cameron,  Allan,  Richard's  father,  266, 
275. 

Cameron,  Michael,  Richard's  brother, 
266,  272,  274,  275. 

Cameronians,  The,  273,  286,  292,  359, 
396,  408,  418. 

Camisards,  The.  Their  slaughter  of 
the  Abbe  du  Chaila,  226.  Mr. 
Stevenson  contrasts  them  with  the 
Covenanters,  281. 

Campbell,  Lady  Anne,  daughter  of  the 
Marquis  of  Argyll.  The  proposal 
that  Charles  11.  should  marry  her, 
61. 

Campbell,  Sir  Hugh,  of  Cessnock. 
Imprisoned,  299.  His  trial  and 
acquittal,  307,  308.  On  the  Bass 
Rock,  393. 

Canton,  William.     Quoted,  116. 


Cargill,  Donald.  Assists  Richard 
Cameron,  270,  273.  His  char- 
acter, 277.  Minister  of  the  Barony 
Church,  277.  In  the  fields,  278- 
280.  The  Queensferry  Paper,  278. 
The  Torwood  Excommunication, 
279.  His  own  assurance  of  salva- 
tion, 281.  Pleads  with  the  Gib- 
bites,  282.  His  last  sermon,  283. 
His  end,  284. 

Carlyle,  Thomas'.  Quoted  of  Archibald 
Johnston,  109. 

Carmichael,  William,  Sheriff-depute  of 
Fife.  The  scheme  to  punish  him, 
222. 

Carmichael,  Lord  John.  King  William's 
Commissioner  to  the  General 
Assembly,  419. 

Carstares,  John.  Lectures  before 
Cromwell  in  Glasgow,  75.  With 
the  Duke  of  Rothes  on  his  death- 
bed, 285. 

Carstares,  William,  son  of  John.  His 
share  in  the  Whig  plot,  295.  Im- 
prisoned in  Edinburgh,  299. 
Under  torture,  300.  At  the 
General  Assembly  of  1690,  423. 
His  influence  and  character,  423- 
425. 

Cathcart,  of  Carleton,  105. 

Causes  of  the  Lord's  Wrath  against 
Scotland,  The,  Written  by  James 
Guthrie,  73. 

Cess,  The,  294. 

Charles  i.  His  character,  2.  In  de- 
bate with  Wariston  on  Duns  Law, 
lll.'l 

Charles  11.  His  betrayal  of  Montrose, 
17.  His  Coronation  in  Scone,  19, 
His  Restoration,  31.  Character- 
istics, 31-33.  His  want  of 
religion,  35.  His  promises  to 
Argyll,  61.  Interview  with  James 
Guthrie,  74.  Livingston's  opinion 
of  him,  101.  His  friendship  with 
Lauderdale,  155,  210.  The  Rye- 
house  plot  against  him,  296.  His 
death,  311. 

Chesterton,  G.  K.  On  the  politeness 
of  Cliarles  11.,  35. 

Chiesly,  Sir  John.     Arrested,  114. 

Children  of  the  Covenant : 

Rutherfurd's  advice  to  them,  51. 
His  own  childhood,  56. 
Margaret  Johnston,  115. 
John  Blackader's  children,  172,  175. 
Leighton's  letter  on  a  child'.s  dcatli, 
189. 


430 


INDEX 


Childreu  of  tlic  Covenant  {coiUiiiLCcd) — 
Lord  Brodie's  children,  256. 
David  Farrie's  love  for  children,  287. 
The  boys  of  Heriot's  Hospital,  291. 
The  girls  of  Pentland,  311. 
Andrew  Hislop,  316. 

Christian's  Great  Interest,  The,  124. 

Clarendon,  Edward  Hyde,  Lord.  The 
History  of  the  Eehellion  quoted,  3, 
16,  190. 

Classes,  The  Act  of,  23. 

Claverhouse,  John  Graham  of.  Walks 
with  Charles  ii.,  32.  The  beauty 
of  his  looks,  231.  In  Scotland, 
France,  and  Holland,  232.  His 
acquisition  of  Dudhope,  235.  His 
marriage,  235.  His  religious  ob- 
servances, 236.  At  Drumclog, 
239-243.  His  share  in  the  death 
of  Andrew  Hislop,  316.  In  the 
Killing  Time,  320.  At  John 
Brown's  death,  328-335.  His  own 
death,  413. 

Cleland,  William.  At  Drumclog,  239. 
His  poetry,  240.  His  defence  of 
Dunkeld,  and  death,  414. 

GloiLd  of  Witnesses,  The.  Quoted  of 
the  banishments  of  the  Killing 
Time,  321. 

Cochrane,  Lady  Jane.  How  Claver- 
house wedded  her,  235. 

Cochrane,  Sir  John.  Helps  to  discover 
Richard  Cameron,  274.  In  the 
Earl  of  Argyll's  expedition,  354. 

Commission,  The  Court  of  High. 
Restored  by  Sharp,  129. 

Conventicles.  The  Act  against  them, 
168.  The  people  bring  arms  to 
them,  178.  Their  temporary  ces- 
sation, 212.  The  continuance  of 
severity  against  them,  408. 

Corson,  James.  A  prisoner  after  Both- 
well,  251. 

Covenants,  The  : — 

The  National  Covenant  :  Events 
which  led  to  its  renewal,  2.  The 
men  who  framed  it,  3.  The  scene 
in  the  Greyfriars,  4.  Signed  over 
the  country,  5. 
The  Solemn  League  :  What  it  is,  10. 
Sworn  in  St.  Margaret's,  West- 
minster, 12.  How  it  and  its  pre- 
decessor are  to  be  estimated,  12-15. 

Covenanters,  The  character  of  the  : 
Their  patriotism,  6,  298  ; 
Their     attachment    to     Calviuistic 

Presbyterianism,  12,  202  ; 
Their  want  of  tolerance,  1 3  ; 


Covenanters  {continued) — 
Their  love  of  freedom,  14  ; 
Their  loyalty,  14,  38  ; 
Their  courage,  68,  74,  149, 196,  280  ; 
Their  humility,  101 ; 
Their  scholarship,  102,  255  ; 
Their  joyousuess,  103; 
Their  delight  in  home,  103,  254  ; 
Their  friendship,  104  ; 
Their  diligence,  112  ; 
Their  secret  religion,  113,  203,  367  ; 
Their  humour,  121,  148,  369  ; 
Their  assurance  of  salvation,  281. 
Cowie,    James.     James   Guthrie's  pre- 
centor and  beadle,  71-73,  78. 
Cowley,  Abraham.     In  praise  of  Lady 

Balcarres,  363. 
Crail.     James  Sharp  minister  of,  82. 
Crawford,  The  Earl  of.     At  the  Corona- 
tion of  Charles  ii.,  19.     Treasurer 
at  the  Restoration,  44. 
Cromwell,   Oliver.       Why  the    Cove- 
nanters were  antagonistic  to  him, 

27,  28.     His  friends  in  Scotland, 

28.  The  l)enefit  of  his  rule,  29. 
Argues  with  Gnthrie  and  Gillespie, 
75. 

Crookshank,  John.    An  Ulster  minister 

killed  at  Pentland,  137. 
Culross,  Elizabeth  Melvill,  Lady,  104. 
Cunningham,    Robert.      One  of  John 

Livingston's  friends,  105. 
Curates,  The.     Their  appointment  and 

character,    93.      The   "rabbling" 

of  them,  412. 

Dalrymple,  Sir  James,  President  of  the 
Court  of  Session.  Resigns  office 
rather  than  swear  the  Test,  293. 

Dairy,  the  village  of.  The  Pentland 
Rising  begins,  131. 

Dakell,  Sir  Thomas,  of  Binns.  Creich- 
ton's  jjortrait,  133.  In  command 
of  the  Royalists  at  Pentland,  134. 
His  ferocity,  139.  Too  late  for 
Bothwell  Bridge,  249.  Angry  at 
Monmouth's  clemency,  251.  His 
regard  for  Captain  Paton,  324. 

Danby,  The  Earl  of.  Lauderdale  in 
communication  with,  213. 

Daniel,  William.  On  Magus  Moor, 
222.  Mortally  wounded  at  Drum- 
clog, 243. 

Defoe,    Daniel.     His    Memoirs  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland,  on  : 
The  rescue  at  the  Enterkin,  308,  309  ; 
The  sorrows  of  the  Killing  Time,  326  ; 
The  Wigtown  Martyrdom,  340. 


INDEX 


431 


Dickson,  David.  A  Resolutiouer,  25. 
Expostulates  with  Middleton,  47. 
Sleeps  with  Argyll  before  his  execu- 
tion, 67.  His  deathbed,  105. 
On  Duns  Law,  111.  The  English 
merchant's  ;iccount  of  his  preach- 
ing, 192. 

Dickson,  John.  Assists  Blackader  at 
conventicles,  177. 

Dictionary  of  National  Biui/raphy,  The. 
On  the  date  of  Claverhouse's  birtli, 
231. 

Dougal,  Isabel.  James  Guthrie's  maid- 
servant, 71. 

Douglas,  Robert.  Preaches  at  the 
Coronation  of  Charles  11.,  19.  A 
Resolutioner,  25,  His  corres- 
pondence with  Sharp,  85.  Inter- 
view with  Sharp,  89. 

Douglas,  Thomas.  Preacher  before 
Drumclog,  239.    AtDunscore,267. 

Douglas,  Lieutenaut.  One  of  the 
persecutors,  317.  Commissioner 
over  the  south  of  Scotland,  337. 

Douglas,  Lady  Margaret,  Marchioness 
of  Argyll,  66. 

Drumclog,  The  battle  of,  239-243. 

Drummond,  Patrick.  Correspondent 
of  James  Sharp,  83,  85. 

Drummond,  Sir  William,  of  Hawthorn- 
den.  Befriends  George  Brysson, 
351. 

Dryden,  John.  Quoted,  of  Sir  George 
Mackenzie,  230. 

Duclaux,  Madame  (A.  Mary  F. 
Robinson).     Quoted,  55,  150. 

Dudhope,  The  estate  of.  Coveted  and 
secured  by  Claverhouse,  235. 

Dumfries.  Sir  James -Turner  captured 
in,  132. 

Dunblane.  Leighton  bishop  of,  89,  183. 

Dunnottar,  The  castle  of.  A  Covenant- 
ing prison,  387-391. 

Duns  Law,  The  Covenanting  army  on, 
110. 

Durham,  James.  Preaches  before 
Cromwell,  75.  With  William 
Guthrie,  121. 

Dysart,  Countess  of.  Lauderdale's 
marriage  with  her,  and  her  evil 
influence,  169. 

East  Nisbet.  A  Communion  in  the 
fields  there,  179. 

Edinburgh.  See  Grassmarket,  Grey- 
friars,  Mercat  Cross,  St.  Giles. 

Elliot,  Gilbert,  Lord  Minto.  At  tlie 
General  Assembly  of  1690,  421. 


Engagement,  The,  23,  154. 

Enterkin,  The.    The  pass,  308.      The 

rescue,  309. 
Episcopacy  restored,  89. 
Erskine,  Henry.     His  jireaching,  195. 

At  the  Assembly  of  1690,  422. 
Essex,     Lord.       In    the     Whig    plot, 

294. 
Evangelists,  The  Bishop's,  185. 
Evelyn,  John.     The  Z)/a?'?/ quoted,  of: 
The  Restorati6n,  31  ; 
The  death  of  Charles  II.,  312. 

Fairfoul,  Andrew,  Archbishoji  of  Glas- 
gow,   89.     His   complaint  of  the 
ministers,  91. 
Faithful  Contendings  Displayed,  309. 
Falkland,  Lucius  Cary,  Viscount,  190. 
Falkland,  in  Fifeshire.     Melville's  in- 
terview   with    James    vi.,     196. 
Richard  Cameron's  birthplace,  266. 
Farrie,  David.     DiesattheGallow-Lee, 

287. 
Feiiwick,  The  church  aud  churchyard 

of,  118,  123. 
Ferrar,  Nicholas.     Quoted,  389. 
Fleming,  Dr.  D.  Hay.     Quoted,  of: 
Richard  Cameron,  269  ; 
Aytoun's   denial    of   John   Brown's 

martyrdom,  328  ; 
The  prisoners  of  Dunnottar,  388. 
Fletcher,  Sir  John.     King's  Advocate 

at  the  Restoration,  44. 
Fletcher,    of  Saltoun.     In   the  Whig 

plot,  295. 
Forman,  Patrick.     Dies  at  the  Gallow- 

Lee,  287. 
Fountainhall,  Lord.     Quoted,  of: 
The  jirofligacy  of  Rothes,  284  ; 
The  sentence  on  Baillieof  Jerviswood, 

303; 
The  exactions  of  Claverhouse,  321  ; 
The  death  of  the  Earl  of  Ai'gyll,  356. 
Eraser,  James,  of  Brea.     Reproves  Lord 
Brodie,  260.     His  account  of  the 
Bass  Rock,  391.     How  he  improved 
his  imprisonment,  394. 

Gallow-Lek,  The,  287. 

Gardiner,     Dr    Samuel.      Quoted,     of 

CroinweU's    failure    to    conciliate 

Scotland,  27. 
Garnock,      Robert.      Suffers    at     the 

Gallow-Lee,  288.     His  joys,  289. 
Geddes,  Jenny,  2. 
Gibbites,  The,  282. 
Gibson,  John.     A  martyr  of  the  Killing 

Time,  317. 


432 


INDEX 


Gillan,  Andrew.    On  Magus  Moor,  322. 

Gillespie,  George.  On  the  unity  of  the 
Church,  199. 

Gillespie,  Patrick,  Prays  for  Crom- 
well, 28.  In  argument  with 
Cromwell,  75. 

Glasgow.  The  Assembly  of,  6-10. 
Middleton's  Act  passed  there,  92. 
Its  prisons  filled  after  Pentland, 
1S9.  Claverhouse  flees  to  it  after 
Drumclog,  243,  245. 

Glencairn,  The  Earl  of.  Chancellor  at 
the  Restoration,  44.  Befriends 
William  Guthrie,  125. 

Gosse,  Edmund.     Quoted,  149. 

Govan,  Captain  William.  Executed 
along  with  James  Guthrie,  78. 

Graden,  Helen  Johnston,  Lady.  With 
Baillie  of  Jerviswood  in  prison,  299. 
At  his  trial,  303,  On  his  scaffold, 
304. 

Graham,  David,  brother  of  Claverhouse. 
Sentences  the  Wigtown  Martyrs, 
337. 

Grassmarket,  The.  James  Mitchell's 
execution,  221.  Isabel  Alison's 
and  Marion  Harvie's,  361.  Ren- 
wick's,  406. 

Gray,  Andrew.  First  leader  of  the 
insurgents  in  the  Pentland  Rising, 
134, 

Greyfriars  Churchyard,  The.  The 
Covenant  signed,  1-6.  The  im- 
prisonment of  the  Covenanters 
after  Bothwell,  251, 

Grierson,  Sir  Robert,  of  Lag.  The 
original  of  Sir  Robert  Redgauntlet, 
318.  How  he  put  John  Bell  to 
death,  319.  Sentences  the  Wig- 
town Martyrs,  337,  Present  at 
the  martyrdom,  344. 

Glide  and  Godlie  Ballates,  The. 
Quoted,  205. 

Guiney,  Louise  Imogen.  On  the  wit  of 
Charles  ii.,  33,  A  Roadside  Harp 
quoted,  317. 

Guthrie,  James.  Greets  Argyll,  68. 
Originally  pre] atic,  70.  Signs  the 
Covenant,  71.  His  ministries,  71. 
His  home-life,  72.  As  a  church- 
man, 73.     Mr.    "Sickerfoot,"  73- 

75.  His  imprisonment  and  trial, 

76,  77.      On    the    gallows,    78. 
After  death,  79, 

Guthrie,  William.  James  Guthrie's 
son,  79. 

Guthrie,  William,  of  Fenwick.  Up- 
bringing, 118,   119.     Ordained  at 


Fenwick,  120,  His  merry  temper- 
ament, 121.  How  he  fished  for 
men,  122,  207.  The  fruitfulness 
of  his  ministry,  123.  The  Christ 
tians  Great  Interest,  124.  His 
deposition,  125.  And  death,  127. 
His  zeal  for  Christ's  kingly  rights, 
197. 

Hackston,  David,  of  Rathillet.  On 
Magus  Moor,  222-225.  At  Drum- 
clog,  239.  At  Bothwell  Bridge, 
250.  At  Ayrsmoss,  275.  His 
execution,  276. 

Haddington.  The  Duke  of  Lauderdale 
buried  in,  265. 

"Haddock's  Hole,  The,"  a  portion 
of  the  High  Church  of  Edinburgh, 
138. 

Hall,  Henry,  of  Haughhead.  At 
Drumclog,  239.  At  Bothwell 
Bridge,  250.  Cameron  licensed  in 
his  house,  267.     His  death,  279. 

Hallam,  Henry.  Summary  of  the 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  10. 

Hamilton,  James,  Bishop  of  Galloway, 
89. 

Hamilton,  James,  third  Marquis  of. 
King's  Commissioner  to  the  Glas- 
gow Assembly,  8.  Leaves  the 
meeting,  9. 

Hamilton,  William,  third  Duke  of.  A 
political  opponent  of  Lauderdale, 
209,  217. 

Hamilton,  Sir  Robert,  of  Preston.  At 
the  Rutlierglen  Declaration,  238. 
At  Drumclog,  239,  242.  His 
character,  245.  His  fatuity  before 
Bothwell,  248,  Renwick's  letters 
to  him,  398,  406. 

Harris,  Professor  Rendel.    Quoted,  107. 

Harvie,  Marion.  Her  trial  and  death, 
359-362. 

Hay,  Helen,  Lord  Wariston's  wife,  108. 

Hay,  Andrew,  of  Craignethan.  His 
Diary  quoted,  of  Peden's  license, 
376. 

Henderson,  Alexander.  Share  in  draw- 
ing up  the  National  Covenant, 
3.  Moderator  of  the  Glasgow 
Assembly,  7.  Prepares  the  Solemn 
League,  12.  Used  for  the  con- 
version of  the  Marquis  of  Argyll, 
63.     On  Duns  Law,  111. 

Heriot's  Hospital.  The  boys  and  their 
watchdog,  294. 

Herkless,  Pi'ofessor.  The  biographer 
of  Richard  Cameron,  269,  276. 


INDEX 


433 


Highland  Raid,  The,  213-215.  Its 
forces  ordered  to  withdraw,  217. 

Hillmen,  The.     See  Cameronians. 

Hind  Let  Loose,  A.  Mentions  the 
Wigtown  Martyrdom,  340. 

Hislop,  Andrew.     His  death,  316. 

Hog,  Thomas,  of  Kiltearn.  Reproves 
Brodieof  Brodie,  260.  Imprisoned 
on  the  Bass,  392.  At  the 
Assembl}^  of  1690,  421. 

Holland.  Its  friendliness  to  the  Cove- 
nanters, 106,  130,  269,  352,  396. 

Holyrood.  The  Duke  of  York  in,  263. 
Lord  Rothes  dies  in,  284. 

Howie,  .John,  of  Lochgoin.     The  Scots 
Worthies  quoted,  of  : 
The  Marquis  of  Argyll,  62  ; 
William  Guthrie,  126  ; 
Captain  Raton's  escape,  137  ; 
The  number  of  victims  in  the  Persecu- 
tion, 407. 

Huddlestone,  Father.  With  Charles 
II.  on  his  deathbed,  312. 

Hume,  Sir  Patrick.  In  the  Earl  of 
Argyll's  expedition,  354.  Shielded 
by  his  daughter,  370,  371.  Earl 
of  Marchmont after  the  Revolution, 
373. 

Hutcheson,  George.  With  the  Marquis 
of  Argyll  on  the  scatfold,  69. 

Hutcheson,  James.  Assists  William 
Guthrie  at  Feuwick  Communion, 
123. 

Huttou,  Mr.  R.  H.  Quoted,  of  the 
Hard  Church,  247. 

Indulgences,  The.  The  first  and 
second,  161.  Their  dangers,  162. 
Opposed  by  Archbishop  Burnet, 
163.  A  source  of  discord,  200. 
The  third  Indulgence,  306.  King 
James's  Indulgences,  408. 

liiformatory  Vindication,  The.  Men- 
tions the  Wigtown  Martyrdom, 
340.  Written  by  Renwick  and 
Alexander  Shields,  403. 

Ingram,  Thomas,  of  Borlands.  An 
informer  against  Campbell  of 
Cessnock,  307. 

Inverlochy.  Montrose  defeats  Argyll 
at,  16,  60. 

Irvine,  James,  of  Bonshaw.  Captures 
Donald  Cargill,  284. 

James  ii.     See  York,  Duke  of, 
Jerviswood.     See  Baillie,  Robert. 
Johnston,  Archibald,   Lord   Wariston. 
Helps   to   draw  up   the   National 

28 


Covenant,  3.  Reads  it  in  Grey- 
friars,  5, 108.  Prays  JamesGuthrie 
back  to  life,  73.  His  heredity, 
107.  His  bride,  108.  Secretary 
of  the  Central  Table,  109.  At  the 
Glasgow  Assembly,  109.  On  Duns 
Law,  111.  In  the  Westminster 
Assembly,  112.  In  Cromwell's 
House  of  Peers,  113.  His  personal 
religion,  113.  Trial  and  death, 
114-117. 

Johnston,  Margaret,  Lord  Wariston's 
daughter,  116. 

Johnstone,  Sir  James,  of  Westerhall. 
His  cruelty  to  Andrew  Hislop, 
316. 

Keith,  George,  of  Whiteridge.     Gover- 
nor of  Dunnottar  Castle,  388. 
Kempis,  Thomas  a.     Quoted,  289. 
Kennedy,    Hugh.       Moderator   of  the 

General  Assembly  of  1690,  420. 
Kid,  John.     Executed  after  Bothwell, 

251. 
Killinchy.     Livingston's   ministry  in, 

100,  103. 
Killing  Time,  The,  314  et  seq. 
Kincardine,    Alexander  Bruce,   second 
Earl  of.     One  of  Lauderdale's  best 
advisers,  165.     Gradual  alienation, 
169,.210.     On  Sharp's  boastfulness, 
219.' 
King,    John.     Seized  by  Claverhouse, 
238.      Executed     after     Bothwell 
Bridge,  251. 
Kinglake,  A.  W.     Eothen  quoted,  212. 
Kirkton,  James.     The  Secret  and  True 
History  quoted,  of: 
The  religious  condition  of  Scotland 

in  the  Commonwealth,  29  ; 
The  Drunken  Parliament,  46  ; 
The  student-days  of  Sharp,  82  ; 
The  curates,  93  ; 
The  death  of  Middleton,  96  ; 
The  prayerfulness  of  Wariston,  113  ; 
The  evil  of  the  Indulgences,  164  ; 
The  courage  of  John  Welsh,  174. 
Knox,  John.     And  Queen  Mary,  273. 
Koelman,    Pastor    James.     Assists    in 
ordaining  Cameron  in  Rotterdam, 
269. 

Lachli.son,  Margaret.  The  debate  as 
tohermartyrdom,  336.  Sentenced, 
337.  Reprieved,  339.  How  the 
fact  of  her  death  is  proved,  34D- 
342.  The  execution  of  the  sen- 
tence, 344. 


434 


INDEX 


Lanark.  The  Covenant  renewed  at, 
135.     The  pitiful  sequel,  139. 

Laud,  Archbishop.  His  liturgy,  2. 
Letter  to  the  Marquis  of  Hamilton 
after  the  Glasgow  Assembly,  10. 

Lauderdale,  John  Maitland,  Earl,  and 
afterwards  Duke,  of.  Introduces 
Sharp  to  Charles  li.,  85.  Rivalry 
with  Middleton,  95.  At  Wariston's 
trial,'  115.  Humbles  Sharp  and 
Rothes,  152,  153.  Becomes  Royal 
Commissioner,  154.  Charles's 
favour  for  him,  155,  210.  His 
character,  156-159.  Compels 
Archbishop  Burnet  to  resign,  163. 
Marries  the  Countess  of  Dysart, 
169.  The  opposition  to  him,  209. 
Sends  the  Highlanders  into  the 
West,  213-215.  His  breaking 
health,  263.  His  death,  264. 
Excommunicated  by  Cargill,  279. 
His  purchase  of  the  Bass  Rock, 
391. 

Law-burrows,  The  Letters  of.  Put  into 
force  against  the  Covenanters,  215. 

Learmont,  Major.  In  the  Pentland 
Rising,  135.  At  Bothwell  Bridge, 
247.  Imprisoned  on  the  Bass 
Rock,  393. 

Leigh  ton,  Robert.  Bishop  of  Dunblane, 
89.  Archbishop  of  Glasgow,  183. 
His  Accommodation,  183,  184. 
His  Evangelists,  185.  Burnet's 
panegjn'ic,  185.  His  holiness,  186. 
The  influence  of  his  writings,  1S7. 
The  mystery  in  his  career,  187. 
His  resignation,  189.  His  death, 
190.  Alexander  Brodie  expostu- 
lates with  him,  257. 

Leighton,  Sir  Ellis,  brother  of  Robert, 
188. 

Lenthall,  William,  Speaker  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  Cromwell's 
letter  to  him  after  Dunbar,  314. 

Leslie,  Alexander,  110. 

Lex  Rex,  The.  Condemned  by  the 
Committee  of  Estates,  49.  Its 
teaching,  50. 

Lindsay,  Sir  David.     Quoted,  13,  232. 

Lindsay,  Lady  Anne,  wife  of  Lord 
Rothes,  128. 

Linlithgow,  The  swans  of,  37. 

Livingston,  John.  Treating  with 
Charles  li.,  21,  101.  Ejected 
from  Ancrum,  97.  Sentenced  by 
the  Privy  Council,  98.  In  the 
revival  at  the  Kirk  of  Shotts,  99. 
His  ministries,  100.     A  Protester, 


101.  His  scholarship,  102.  His 
home,  103.  His  preaching,  104. 
His  friends,  104.  His  death,  106. 
Hugh  Mackail  in  his  company, 
145.     A  sacramental  sermon,  206. 

Lockhart,  Sir  James,  of  the  Lee.  Pro- 
tests against  Middleton's  Glasgow 
Act,  92. 

Lockhart,  Sir  George.  Rival  at  the 
Bar  of  Sir  George  Mackenzie,  230. 
Prosecutes  with  him  Campbell  of 
Cessnock,  307. 

Loudoun,  The  Earl  of.  Addresses  the 
congregation  in  Greyfriars,  4.  His 
friendship  with  William  Guthrie, 
119. 

Loudoun  Hill,  The  battle  of,  239-243. 

Macaulay,  Lord.     Quoted,  of : 

Claverhouse's   rescue  of  the   Prince 

of  Orange,  232 ; 
The  last  sleep  of  Argyll,  355. 

Macbriar,  Ephraim.  Scott's  portrait 
of  Hugh  Mackail,  140-142. 

Mackail,  Hugh.  His  youth,  143. 
Sermon  in  St.  Giles,  144.  In 
Holland,  145.  On  the  way  to 
Pentland,  145.  Imprisonment 
and  torture,  146.  Sentence,  147. 
His  martyrdom,  149.  The  Fare- 
well and  Welcome,  150. 

Mackenzie,  Sir  George,  of  Rosehaugh. 
An  advocate  for  the  Marquis  of 
Argyll,  64.  His  antagonism  to  the 
Covenanters,  229,  230.  His 
cruelty,  288.  At  the  trial  of 
Baillie  of  Jerviswood,  301.  Prose- 
cutes Campbell  of  Cessnock,  307. 
His  resignation,  409.  Threatens 
Henry  Erskine,  422. 

Mackenzie,  Lady  Anna.     See,  Balcarres. 

Maclachlan,  Margaret.     See  Lachlison. 

Macleod,  of  Assynt.  Surrenders  the 
Marquis  of  Montrose,  18. 

MacWard,  Robert.  In  Holland,  145. 
Ordains  Richard  Cameron,  269. 

Magus  Moor.  The  scene  of  Sharp's 
murder,  224.  Five  Covenanters 
hanged  after  Bothwell,  251. 

Maitland,  Charles,  of  Hatton,  Lauder- 
dale's brother.  His  perjury  in  the 
case  of  James  Mitchell,  221. 
Loses  Dudhope,  235. 

Malory,  Sir  Thomas.  The  Morte 
iV Arthur  quoted,  18,  204. 

Marshall,  Stephen.  Deputy  to  Scotland 
from  the  Westminster  Assembly, 
11. 


INDEX 


435 


Martyn,  Henry.    His  debt  to  Leighton, 

187. 
Marvell,  Andrew,     Quoted,  of  Charles 

II.,  34. 
Masson,  Professor.     His  tribute,  in  the 
Life    of    Milton,     to    Alexander 
Henderson,  8. 
Mathieson,   John,   of  Closeburn.     His 

exile  and  return,  322,  323. 
M  'Cormick,  Andrew.   A  minister  killed 

at  Pentland,  137. 
M'Crie,  Thomas,  Dr.     His  Review  of 
the  Tales  of  My  Landlord,  140. 

Mein,  John,  105. 

Melfort,  Lord,  Secretary  of  State  for 
Scotland,  411. 

Melville,  Andrew.  Interview  with 
James  vi.,  197. 

Meuteath,  Mrs.  A.  Stuart.  Lays  of  the 
Kirk  and  Covenant  quoted,  108. 

Mercat  Cross,  The,  of  Edinburgh. 
Montrose's  execution,  15.  Crom- 
well's Union  proclaimed,  28.  The 
Lex  Rex  burned,  49.  Marquis  of 
Argyll  beheaded,  69.  James 
Guthrie  hanged,  78.  Lord 
Wariston  executed,  116.  Hugh 
Mackail's  death,  149.  Andrew 
Gillan's  execution,  222.  Deaths 
of  John  Kid  and  John  King,  251. 
David  Hackston's  tragedy,  276. 
Cargill's  execution,  285. 

Mcrcurius  Caledonius,  The,  37. 

M'Gilligen,  John,  minister  of  Fodderty. 
A  prisoner  on  the  Bass  Rock, 
393. 

M'Hatfie,  Thomas.  Shot  at  Straiton, 
318. 

Middleton,  The  Earl  of.  Koyal 
Commissioner,  42.  His  character, 
43.  David  Dickson  expostulates 
with  him,  47.  Covets  Argyll's 
estates,  64.  Excommunicated  by 
James  Guthrie,  74.  Sharp's 
letter  to  him,  88.  His  second 
Parliament,  91.  His  Glasgow 
Act,  92.  His  plot  against  Lauder- 
dale, and  downfall,  9),  95.  His 
death,  96. 

Milliken,  Elizabeth.  A  witness  to  the 
Wigtown  Martyrdom,  341. 

Milton,  John.  Quoted,  of  the  Restora- 
tion, 36. 

Mitchel,  William.  Richard  Cameron 
sleeps  in  his  house,  274. 

Mitchell,  James.  Attempts  to  assas- 
sinate Sharp,  220.  His  execution, 
221. 


M'Keaiid,    Bailie.     A   witness   to   the 

Wigtown  Martyrdom,  341. 
Monck,  General,  Duke  of  Albemarle. 
The  Scots  approve  his  efforts  to 
bring  back  Charles  ii.,  38.  His 
share  in  securing  the  condemnation 
of  Argyll,  65. 

Monmouth,  The  Duke  of.  Amazed  at 
Lauderdale's  administration,  216. 
Royalist  commander  at  Bothwell, 
248.  A  leader  in  the  Whig  plot, 
294.  Secures  the  third  Indul- 
gence, 306.  His  rebellion  defeated, 
356. 

Montrose,  James  Graham,  Marquis  of. 
Leads  a  Covenanting  army  to 
Aberdeen,  5.  His  execution,  15. 
His  abandonment  of  the  Cove- 
nanters, 15.  His  military  genius, 
16.  His  capture,  17.  His  char- 
acter, 18,  19. 

Moray,  Sir  Robert.  His  testimony  to 
Charles's  physical  activity,  32. 
Aids  Lauderdale  in  humbling 
Sharp  and  Rothes,  152.  His  win- 
ning character,  166.  Separation 
from  Lauderdale,  169.  Brother- 
in-law  of  Lady  Balcarres,  362. 

Morley,  John.     Quoted,  of: 
The  Marquis  of  Argyll,  60  ; 
Calvinism,  202. 

Mozley,  Canon.     Quoted,  259. 

Muirhead,  John.  Peden  tells  him  of 
the  death  of  John  Brown,  335. 

Munro,  Neil.  His  portrait,  in  John 
Splendid,  of  the  Marquis  of  Argyll, 
59,  68. 

Mure,  Sir  William,  of  Rowallan.  Con- 
cerned in  the  Whig  plot,  299. 

Murray,  Lady.  Daughter  and  bio- 
grapher of  Lady  Grissel  Baillie, 
372. 

Myers,  Frederic.     Quoted,  53. 

N'aphtali.     Quoted,  of: 

Waristou's  Dying  Testimony,  117. 
A  boy's  martyrdom,  151. 
Napier,  Sheriif  Mark.     Biographer  of 

Claverhouse,     231.      Quotes     his 

letter  on  John  Brown's  death,  329. 

His  Case  for  tlm  Crovm,  336. 
Neilson,  John,  of  Corsock.     Involved 

in  the  Pentland  Rising,  132. 
New  Luce.     Alexander  Peden's  parish, 

376. 
Newman,  John  Henry.     The  Grammar 

of  Assent  quoted,  244.     His  motto, 

280. 


436 


INDEX 


NicoU,  John.     His  Diary  qijoted,  of: 
Montrose's  execution,  17  ; 
The  Kestoration,  36, 
Nisbet,     John,      of     Hardhill.       His 

sorrows,  325.     His  death,  326. 
Nisbet,    James,    son   of  John    Nisbet. 
His  retreats,  378.     His  description 
of  Peden's  preaching,  381. 

Oliphant,  Mrs.     Quoted,  347. 
Orange,    William    Henry,    Prince    of. 

The  story  of  Cl^verhouse's  rescue 

of    him,    232.      The    Revolution, 

410.     His  Declaration  to  Scotland, 

411. 
Orkney.     The  shipwreck  of  the  Crown, 

252. 
Owen,    John.       His    praise    of     The 

Christian's     Great     Interest,   124. 

His  tribute  to  Baillie  of  Jerviswood, 

297. 

Parliament.  The  Drunken  Parlia- 
ment, 42.  Middletou's  second  Par- 
liament, 91.  Parliament  of  1663, 
129.  The  Duke  of  York's  Parlia- 
ment, 293.  The  Eevolution  Par- 
liament, 416. 

Party,  The.  Opposed  to  Lauderdale's 
policy,  210. 

Paterson,  Bishop,  of  Edinburgh. 
Writes  Lauderdale  about  the  Tor- 
wood  Excommunication,  279.  At 
the  trial  of  Isabel  Alison  and 
Marion  Harvie,  361. 

Paton,  Captain  John,  of  ^leadowliead. 
In  the  Pentland  Rising,  135,  137. 
At  Bothwell  Bridge,  247.  His 
capture,  323.     His  execution,  324. 

Peden,  Alexander.  Marries  John  Brown 
and  Isabel  Weir,  331.  At  Priest- 
hill,  332.  Sees  its  tragedy  though 
absent,  335.  The  glamour  which 
clings  about  him,  374.     His  youth, 

375.  His   license    and   ministry, 

376.  In  the  iields,  377.  Im- 
prisoned on  the  Bass,  380.  His 
preaching,  381.  His  interview 
with  Renwick,  384.  His  death, 
385.  His  letter  to  the  Dunnottar 
captives,  390. 

Pellico,    Silvio.      His    imprisonment, 

394. 
Pentland    Rising,     The,    130    et    seq. 

Some  of  its  martyrs,   142,   143. 
Perth,    James    Drummond,    Earl    of. 

Leighton'e    interview   with,    190. 

At  the  torture  of  Carstares,  300. 


His  injustice  on  the   bench,   307. 
Chancellor     of      Scotland,      409. 
Flight  and  imprisonment,  411. 
Petrie,    Alexander.      Minister   of    the 

Scots  Church  in  Rotterdam,  145. 
Plantations,   The.      The    Covenanters 

banished  to,  130,  321. 
Portia,  Shakespeare's,  in  Julius  Cccsar, 
compared  with  Isabel  Alison  and 
Marion  Harvie,  361. 
Preachers  of  the  Covenant,  The  : 
The  Protesters  in  the  pulpit,  25  ; 
Rutherfurd's    preaching,     52,     195, 

203; 
Livingston's,  103,  206  ; 
AVilliam  Guthrie's,  123,  197,  207  ; 
Wodrow's  anecdote,  192  ; 
The  homely  style  of  the  preachers, 

193; 
Their  insistence  on  the  crown-rights 

of  Christ,  195  ; 
Their  pleading  for  the  unity  of  the 
Church,  199  ;  and  for  its  purity, 
200  ; 
Their  exposition  of  Scripture,  201  ; 
Their  Calvinism,  202  ; 
Their  devotion  to  Christ,  203  ; 
The  honour  they  put  on  the  atone- 
ment, 204  ; 
Their  passion  for  holiness,  206  ; 
And  for  the  salvation  of  men,  207  ; 
Cameron's  preaching,  270  ; 
Cargill's,  283  ; 
Peden's,  381  ; 
Renwick's,  397. 
Presbyterianism.     Why  so  powerless  at 

the  Restoration,  40. 
Preston,  Sir  Robert.     George  Brysson's 

landlord,  350. 
Priesthill.  See  Brown,  John. 
Primrose,  Sir  Archibald.  Clerk  - 
Register  at  the  Restoration,  44. 
Would  bring  in  the  bishops  slowly, 
47. 
Privy  Council,  The.  Meets  in  Glasgow, 
91.  Sentences  Livingston,  98. 
Its  supremacy,  129.  Hugh  Mackail 
before  it,  146.  Subserviency  to 
the  Duke  of  York,  313.  Anger  at 
the  Apologetical  Declaration,  315. 
Sentences  Nisbet,  326.  Reprieves 
Margaret  Lachlison  and  Margaret 
Wilson,  338.  Uses  the  Bass  Rock 
as  a  prison,  391.  Denounces  and 
condemns  Renwick,  402,  405. 
Forbids  tlie  Declaration  of  the 
Prince  of  Orange  to  be  published, 
411. 


INDEX 


437 


Protesters,  The.  IIow  they  differed 
from  the  Resohitiouers,  23.  Their 
greater  consistency,  24.  Their 
style  in  preaching,  25. 

QuEENSBERRY,  the  Marquis  of.  His 
jealousy  of  Claverhousc,  235. 
Who  gains  for  him  a  Dukedom, 
235.  Rises  as  Lauderdale  falls, 
263.  Claverhouse  writes  him  of 
Johu  Brown's  death,  329. 

Queensferry  Paper,  The,  278. 

Rabbling,  The,  of  the  curates,  412. 

Ramsay,  Sir  Andrew,  Provost  of  Edin- 
burgh. Binds  the  citizens  to  their 
allegiance  before  Pentland,  136. 

Remonstrants,  The.  Sec  Protesters,  The. 

Renwick,  James.  His  interview  with 
Peden,  384.  Anagrams  on  his 
name,  395.  Birth  and  youth,  395. 
A  spectator  at  Cargill's  martyrdom, 
396.  Ordained  in  Holland,  396. 
His  first  sermon,  397.  His  un- 
tiring diligence,  398.  The  ad- 
venture on  Dungavel,  399.  His 
letters,  400.  Edict  of  tlie  Privy 
Council  against  him,  402.  Writes, 
with  Alexander  Shields,  the  In- 
formatory  Vindication,  404.  His 
capture  and  death,  404-406. 

Rescissory  Act,  The,  46. 

Resolutioners,  The.  Their  deposition 
of  prominent  Protesters,  22.  How 
the  quarrel  arose,  23.  Their  style 
in  preaching,  25.  The  mischief  of 
the  breach,  40. 

Restoration,  The,  31.  Its  character, 
36.     In  Scotland,  37. 

Revolution,  The,  410. 

Revolution  Settlement,  The,  415-418. 

Riddell,  Archibald.  A  minister  sent 
to  deal  with  Isabel  Alison  and 
Marion  Harvie  in  prison,  361. 

Robertland,  Lady,  104. 

Robertson,  Alexander,  probationer. 
Takes  part  in  the  Pentland  Rising, 
133.     His  dying  words,  143. 

Rochejaquelein,  Henri  de  la.  How  he 
faced  death,  345. 

Rossetti,  Christina  G.     Quoted,  8,  203. 

Rothes,  The  Earl  of.     In  Greyfriars,  5. 

Rothes,  The  Earl,  and  afterwards  the 
Duke,  of ;  son  of  the  above.  Royal 
Commissioner,  128.    His  character, 

128.  His    alliance    with    Sharp, 

129.  Surprised  by  the    Pentland 
Rising,  133.     His  cruelty  to  Hugh 


Mackail,  146.  Loses  the  Com- 
missionership,  153.  His  perjury 
in  James  Mitchell's  case,  221. 
Excommunicated  by  Cargill,  279. 
His  death,  285. 

Rotterdam.  An  asylum  for  the  Cove- 
nanters, 145.  Cameron's  ordina- 
tion, 269. 

Rule,  Gilbert,  Principal  of  Edinburgh 
University.  On  Jolin  Brown's 
A  prisoner  on  the 
At  the   Assembly  of 


See  Pentland  Rising, 


death,    329. 
Bass,    393. 
1690,  423. 

Rullion  Green. 
The. 

Rumbold.  His  share  in  the  Ryehouse 
Plot,  296. 

Russel,  James.  His  share  in  Sharp's 
death,  222-226.  With  William 
Daniel  after  Drumclog,  243. 

Russel,  Alexander.  A  sutterer  at  the 
Gallow-Lee,  288. 

Russell,  Lord  William.  In  the  Whig 
plot,  294.  His  trial  and  death, 
297. 

Rutherfurd,  Samuel.  Marked  for  death 
by  the  Drunken  Parliament,  49. 
His  Lex  Rex,  50.  Early  years,  51. 
In  Anwoth,  51.  In  Aberdeen,  52. 
His  letters,  53.  At  the  West- 
minster Assembly,  53.  Professor 
in  St.  Andrews,  54.  His  character, 
54.  His  passion  for  Christ,  55, 
203.  His  death,  56.  James 
Guthrie's  spiritual  father,  70. 
And  William  Guthrie's,  119.  The 
English  merchant's  account  of  his 
preaching,  192. 

Rutherglen.  The  Declaration  at  the 
Cross,  238. 

Ryehouse  Plot,  The,  295. 

Sanquhar  Declaration,  The,  271.  Ren- 
wick repeats  it,  403. 
Saville,  Henry.     Votes  in  the  Commons 

against  Lauderdale,  210. 
Scone.     The  Coronation  of  Charles  ii. 

in  the  Parish  Churcli,  19. 
Scot,  Sir  William,  of  Harden.     Richard 
Cameron  a  tutor  in  his  family,  267. 
Scotch    Prcibyterian    Eloqutnce,     The, 

194,  203. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter.     Quoted,  of : 
The  Marquis  of  Argyll,  59  ; 
Sir  James  Turner,  130  ; 
Hugh  Mackail,  140-142  ; 
Sir  Robert  Grierson,  318. 
i  Scott,  Margaret,  of  Stranraer,  104. 


438 


INDEX 


Sempill,  Gabriel.  A  field-preacher,  176. 
At  Dunscore,  267.  At  the  As- 
sembly of  1690,  420. 

Sharp,  James.  On  the  trial  of  Argyll, 
64.  "Of  that  Ilk,"  81.  Birth 
and  upbringing,  82.  Minister  of 
Crail,  82,  83.  Agent  of  the  Re- 
solutioners,  84.  His  betrayal  of 
the  Church,  84-89.  Archbishop 
of  St.  Andrews,  89.  Angry  at 
the  Glasgow  Act,  92.  Restores 
the  Court  of  High  Commission, 
129.  His  pitilessness  after  Pent- 
land,  138.  And  towards  Mackail, 
147.  Helps  Lauderdale  to  pass 
the  Act  of  Supremacy,  219. 
Mitchell's   attempt    to   kill    him, 

220.  John   Welwood's  prophecy, 

221.  The  tragedy  of  Magus 
Moor,  222-228.  Alexander  Brodie 
cultivates  his  goodwill,  259.  His 
untenderness  to  Thomas  Hog,  393. 

Sharp,  William,  brother  of  James 
Sharp,  95. 

Sharpe,  Charles  Kirkpatrick.  Quoted, 
233. 

Shields,  Alexander.  On  John  Brown's 
death,  328.  A  prisoner  on  the 
Bass,  393.  Biographer  of  Renwick, 
395.  Ordained  by  the  United 
Societies,  403.  Author,  with 
Renwick,  of  the  Informatory  Vin- 
dication, 403.  Enters  the  Revolu- 
tion Church,  418. 

Shields,  Michael.  The  historian  of  the 
United  Societies,  309. 

Shotts,  The  Kirk  of.  The  revival 
there,  99. 

Sidney,  Sir  Algernon.  In  the  Whig 
plot,  294.     His  death,  297. 

Smith,  John,  minister  of  Maxtonc,  105. 

Smith,  Professor  George  Adam.  On 
the  biblical  scholarship  of  the 
Scottish  pulpit,  201. 

Smith,  Dr.  Walter  Chalmers.     Quoted, 
of: 
Robert  Leigh  ton,  188  ; 
Balfour  of  Burley,  227  ; 
Isabel  Brown,  335. 

Societies,  The  Praying.  What  they 
were,  309.  The  severity  against 
them,  314. 

Southwell,  Robert.  Tht  Burmnrj  Babe 
quoted,  289. 

St.  Andrews.  Does  not  sign  the 
Covenant,  5.  The  iccciic't;  burned, 
49.  Rutherfurd's  death,  56. 
Sharp    Archbishop    of,    89.     The 


English  merchant's  visit  to,   192. 
•  Sharp  on  his  way  to,  when  killed, 

222. 
St.    Giles,    the  Church    of.      Scottish 

Service    Book    read    in    it,    144. 

General  Assembly   of  1690  meets 

in  it,  419. 
St.     Margaret's,    Westminster.      The 

Solemn     League    and    Covenant 

sworn  in  it,  10. 
"Standfast,  Mr.,"  70. 
Stevenson,  Robert  Louis.     Quoted,  of: 
His  supreme  affection,  55  ; 
David  Hackston  on  Magus  Moor, 225; 
Camisard  and  Covenanter,  281  ; 
The  Bass  Rock,  391. 
Stewart,   Sir  James,  Provost  of  Edin- 
burgh, 114. 
Stewart,    James.      A    boy-sufferer   at 

the  Gallow-Lee,  287. 
Stewart,    Dr.    Archibald,    minister    of 

Glasserton.      Replies    to     Sherifi' 

Napier,  340. 
Stirling,    George.     Pours   perfume  on 

the  body  of  James  Guthrie,   79. 
Stirling,     James,      of     Paisley.      His 

account  of  Baillie  of  Jerviswood, 

297,  304. 
Stirling,  the  home  of  James  Guthrie,71. 
Strachan,      Colonel.       Espouses     the 

cause  of  Cromwell,  28. 
Strachan,     Captain.      Sentences     the 

Wigtown  Martyrs,  337. 
Stranraer,  Livingston's  ministry  in,  100. 
Succession,  The  Act  of,  293. 
Hum  of  Saving  Knowledge,  The,  25. 
Supremacy,  The  Act  of,  219. 
Sydserf,  Bishop.  His  dislike  of  Ruther- 

furd,  52. 

Tables,  The,  109. 

Tangier,  Lord  Middleton  dies  in,  96. 

Taylor,  Jeremy.     Quoted,  13,  113. 

Taylor  Innes,  Alex.  Description  of 
Rutherfurd,  55. 

Temporary,  A.  What  the  word 
means,  253. 

Test,  The,  293. 

Torwood  Excommunication,  The,  279. 

Trail,  Robert.     With  Montrose,  73. 

Troqueer.  Blackader's  ministry  in,  171 . 

Turner,  Sir  James.  In  Galloway,  130. 
His  Memoirs,  130.  Captured  in 
Dumfries,  132.  His  testimony  to 
tiie  soldiership  of  the  Covenanters, 
135.  His  punishment  by  the 
Privy  Council,  161.  In  search 
of  Blackader,  175. 


INDEX 


439 


Twneddalc,  Tlie  Earl  of.  Aids  Lauder- 
dale, 152,  164,  His  winning 
character,  165.  Separation  from 
Lauderdale,  169,  210. 


Ure,  James,  of  Shargarton.  At  Both- 
well  Bridge,  247,  250. 

Ussher,  Archbishop.  Visits  Riither- 
furd,  52.  A  friend  of  Livingston, 
100. 


Vane,  Sir  Harry.     Deputy  to  Scotland 

from  the  English  Parliament,  11. 
Veitch,     William.      His    account    of 

Mackail's   bodily   weakness,    145. 

"With   the   Earl    of    Argyll,   352. 

His  tribute  to  his  wife,  367.     At 

the  Assembly  of  1690,  421. 
Veitch,  Marion,  wife  of  William  Veitch, 

366-369. 
Veitch,  Professor.     Quoted,  386. 
Vilant,  William.     One  of  the  Indulged 

ministers,  283. 

Walker,  Dr.  James,  of  Carnwath. 
His  Scottish  Theology  and  Theolo- 
gians quoted,  199. 

Walker,     Patrick.     The    Biographia 
Presbyter iana,  or  Six  Saints  of  the 
Covenant,  quoted,  of: 
Richard  Cameron,  267,  268,  274  ; 
Donald  Cargill's  last  sermon,  283  ; 
The  sufferers  at  theGallow-Lee,  291  ; 
John  Brown's  death,  332-334  ; 
Peden's  letter  to  Dunnottar,  390  ; 
The  rabbling  of  the  curates,  412. 

Wallace,  James,  of  Auchans.  Com- 
mander at  Peutland,  134,  His 
bravery  and  defeat,  137.  His 
death  in  Rotterdam,  138. 

Watson,  William.     Quoted,  198,  373. 

Watt,  Francis.  Terrors  of  the  Law 
quoted,  231. 

Weir,  Isabel.  John  Brown's  wife, 
331-335. 

Welsh,  John.  On  the  way  to  Pent- 
land,  133.  His  ancestry,  173. 
Leaves  Irongray,  173.  Courage  as 
a  field-preacher,  174.  At  Both- 
well  Bridge,  247,  248.  Licenses 
Richard  Cameron,  267.  At  Duns- 
core,  268.  (Welsh  died  in  London 
in  1681.) 

Welwood,  John.  His  love  for  Christ, 
203,  Prophesies  Sharp's  doom, 
221,     His  death,  270. 


Westminster  Assembly,  The.     Swears 

the  Solemn  League,   10.     Ruther- 

furd  a  member,  53  ;  and  Wariston, 

112  ;  and  Lauderdale,  154. 

Whig   Plot,    The.     In  England,   294. 

Robert  Baillie's  share,  295. 
Whigs'    vault,    The,    in    Dunnottar, 

387. 
Willcock,    the  Rev.    John.     His    life 

of  The  Great  Marquess,  63. 
William,    King.-     See     Orange,     The 

Prince  of. 
Wilson,  John.     Executed   after  Pent- 
land,  143. 
Wilson,  Margaret.     Debate  as   to  her 
martyrdom,  336,     Sentenced,  337. 
Reprieved,    338.     How    the    fact 
of  her  death  is  proved,  340.     The 
execution,  344.     Her  bravery,  345. 
Wilson,  Thomas,  brother  of  Margaret, 

342. 
Winram,      Major,        Sentences      the 
Wigtown  Martyrs,   337.     Present 
at  the  drowning,  344. 
Wishart,  George,  Bishop^of  Edinburgh. 

His  tribute  to  Montrose,  18. 
M'^odrow,  John,  a  Glasgow  merchant. 
Suffers  death  with  Hugh  Mackail, 
143,  148. 
Wodrow,  Robert,  minister  of  Eastwood, 
The    History    of   the    Sufferings, 
and  the  Analecta,  quoted,  of: 
Rutherfurd's  deathbed,  56  ; 
The  conversion   of  the   Marquis   of 

Argyll,  63  ; 
Tho  premonitions  of  the  Marchioness, 

66; 
The  character  of  Sharp,  83,  90  ; 
William  Guthrie,  121,  123  ; 
Lauderdale's  dislike  of  Sharp,  157  ; 
The  English  merchant,  192  ; 
The  Highland  Raid,  215  ; 
The  disputes  before  Bothwell,  250  ; 
Cargill's  full  assurance,  282  ; 
The  character  of  Robert  Baillie,  297 
The  rescue  at  the  Enterkin,  308  ; 
John  Brown's  death,  334  ; 
The  Wigtown  Martyi-dora,  342. 
Women  of  the  Covenant : 

The  Marchioness  of  Argyll,  66  ; 
James  Guthrie's  wife,  78  ; 
Mrs.  Livingston,  103  ; 
Lady  Wariston,  108  ; 
Mrs.  William  Guthrie,  120  ; 
Lady  Graden,  299,  301,  303,  304  ; 
Isabel  Weir,  331-335  ; 
Margaret  Lacldison,  336  ; 
Margaret  Wilson,  336 ; 


440 


INDEX 


Women  of  the  Covenant  (continued) — 
Isabel   Alison   and  Marion   Harvie, 

359  ; 
Lady  Balcarres,  362  ; 
Mrs.  Veitch,  366  ; 
Lady  Grissel  Baillie,  369. 

York,  the  Duke  of,  afterwards  James 
II.      In     Holyrood,     263.     Royal 


Commissioner,  264,  293.  The 
Ryehouse  plot  against  him,  296. 
His  succession  to  the  throne,  313. 
Tyranny  and  tolerance,  408.  The 
Revolution,  and  his  flight,  410. 
Declared  to  have  "forfaulted" 
the  government  of  Scotland,  413. 
The  letter  of  the  Scottish  bishops 
to  him,  415. 


Vrinttd  by  Morrison  i  Gihn  Limitkh,  Kdi)iUirgh. 


^ 


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Date  Due 

1 
1 

S   10  'i  ^ 

_      1  — 

- — "i^iSPrf"^ 

{jl^^^ifjj^illHtiiii 

^ 

BW5420  .S63 

■Men  of  the  Covenant :  the  story  of  the 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00036  9563 


